


Finding True North

by NamelesslyNightlock



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cheating, Declarations Of Love, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Guilt, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Lies, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, M/M, Manipulative Loki (Marvel), Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, POV Alternating, Pepper Potts Is a Good Bro, Pining, Secret Relationship, Thor (Marvel) is Not Stupid, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Tony Feels, Warning: Loki (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-10-13 22:41:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17496737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: When Tony Stark is injured and forgets the past three years – forgets that the team have an Asgardian mage on their side, that the Rogue Avengers have returned to the Tower, that he is engaged to Steve Rogers – most would call it a tragedy. Loki, though, knows an opportunity when he sees one, and he’s not about to walk away from a chance to get what he wants.





	1. Fear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rabentochter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabentochter/gifts), [STARSdidathing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/STARSdidathing/gifts).



> This was plotted at 5am in an airport (on my end, anyway) over discord, but most of it was **Rabentochter’s** idea so I’m choosing to blame her for pretty much the whole thing.  
>   
>  **STARSdidathing** came up with the title, and is an absolutely amazing cheer squad, even though her cheering methods sometimes involve extortion.  
>   
>  **SecretBane** helped me hammer out more than a few plot points.  
>   
> And **whimsicalwombat** kicked me into deciding to turn this thing into multiple chapters and puts up with a hell of a lot of whining.  
>   
> So I guess you can say that this is a bit of a team effort ^^ thanks guys, you’re all awesome.  
>   
> The timing for this is a bit meh- a couple years post Ragnarok, except they still live in the Tower and JARVIS is still around. And I’m pretty much dealing with infinity war by shoving it under a rug.  
>   
> And finally, a word of warning. I know very little about the medical reasons/explanations whatever for amnesia. My explanation is basically *waves hands* _magic_ so, if any of you are medical savvy and notice that everything is wrong, here’s my pre-emptive apology.

There is not a soul alive who could deny that Loki Laufeyson has had a hard life. He may have grown up privileged but always in shadow, always prepared to defend his family’s kingdom, never allowed to forget the monsters that could attack at any moment. He’d suffered beatings, he’d fallen through the black void of space. He’d been tortured, imprisoned, forced to act against his will, and he’d lost almost everything he had ever held dear. He knew what it was to be in a state of constant terror, to be so afraid of what might happen that you begin to withdraw from everything else that _could._

Oh yes, Loki had long since made a bedfellow of fear.

And yet... nothing had ever scared him quite so much as the sight of Iron Man falling from the sky.

Loki couldn’t get there fast enough. He was only a _second_ too late, arriving just in time to hear the solid _crunch_ of Anthony’s body against the ground. There was a moment afterward where Loki felt nothing at all, the horrible sound echoing through his mind as his vision tunnelled on the battered red and gold armour. But the world came rushing back with terrible sense of desperation, and uncaring of the people staring curiously through office windows, of the smartphones recording everything that was happening– uncaring of what people would _think_ , Loki threw himself onto the asphalt beside the mayfly mortal he had come to care far too much for, his hands hovering over the battered metal as he searched for a way to get it open that wouldn’t injure the human further. 

He needed to get the armour off, he needed to see Anthony, to know if he was _alive_ —

JARVIS was in Loki’s ear, telling him that the mechanisms were too destroyed for the AI to open the suit.

He used his seiðr to try and pry the metal away without jostling any probable injuries, his fingers scrambling, panicking—

Captain Rogers arrived just as Loki managed to disassemble it, the pieces falling away under the direction of his magic and scattering across the street. He would have to trust that the other Avengers would clear them away– Anthony wouldn’t want his suit falling into the wrong hands, but Loki dared not turn from the mess of broken flesh before him.

“Tony—” Rogers gasped, but Loki tried not to pay him any attention, narrowing his eyes as he considered the damage.

It was hard, by the Nine it was hard to look past the blood and force away the _emotion_ coursing through his veins, to focus only on the familiar flow of seiðr through his body. It was impossible to push away entirely, so he allowed it to fuel his frenzied thoughts instead as he lay his hands gently upon what was left of Anthony’s torn skin.

Rogers let him do it. He didn’t particularly like Loki, but he’d known him long enough now to trust that he was only trying to help. Besides, Rogers might have had the greater claim to kneeling over Anthony’s battered body, but he could do nothing to save his life. But Loki could.

And Loki _would_.

Fierce determination blazed just as brightly as his seiðr, feeding his efforts as he pushed all that he could through his hands and into the damaged body before him. It wasn’t precise, and it lacked all of the finesse that healers should possess. It was messy and– and _desperate_ , and it probably shouldn’t have worked—

But Loki forced the world to move to his will, pushed blood back inside veins and arteries, shoved broken bones in place, and pulled torn muscles to their proper positions. Healing had never been Loki’s forte, but he was used to attempting the impossible, to working his power in ways that most others hadn’t even begun to imagine. Frigga had taught him that anything could be accomplished with enough force of will, and Loki’s lack of skill was by far compensated for by his desire– no, his _need_ to succeed.

Because if Anthony died… Loki thought that he just might die with him.

It was pathetic really, and if Loki hadn’t been so hopelessly used to being second best he probably would have cut ties a long time ago. But he’d come to adore the ache in his chest, because even if being reminded of Anthony’s upcoming marriage to Captain Rogers tore Loki to shreds, the pain meant that Anthony was still _there_. He still spent time with Loki, and they were still friends. That was more precious to Loki than anything, and it was worth a little pain.

It wasn’t something that he could cope to lose.

Loki had been in love with Tony Stark for going on two Midgardian years, and he wasn’t going to allow something so insignificant as a _Doombot_ to extinguish that bright spark.

He was so focused that he didn’t flinch when he felt more people arrive at his back, not even hearing their assurances that Doctor Doom had been defeated and taken into custody in Loki’s absence. He did take note when they said that Iron Man’s sacrifice had been what allowed them to gain the upper hand in the fight– but only by way of a short growl to remind them that actually, Anthony hadn’t _sacrificed_ anything.

He was going to be _fine_.

The Avengers fell silent after that, and even the slowly amassing crowd made very little noise. Iron Man was a hero, and it was humbling to see the respect that he had earned through nothing but hard work and selflessness.

Still Loki stayed, through the pain in his knees as they pressed against the asphalt, through the noise of the news helicopter roaring overhead, through Rogers’ admittedly decreasingly panicked gasps, and right through Loki’s own exhaustion. It was only when JARVIS finally let him know that Anthony had made a full recovery, healed without even a scratch left behind to mar his skin, that Loki slumped to the ground and allowed Rogers to take his place.

He wanted nothing more than to stay kneeling at Anthony’s side, because despite the fact that he knew he didn’t really belong, he wanted to be able to watch the rise and fall of Anthony’s chest, to feel the mortal’s living heartbeat against the tips of his fingers. But he was so, so tired, and he likely would not have been able to regain his feet had Thor not helped to steady him.

“You did well, brother,” Thor said, squeezing Loki’s shoulder in a manner that was almost painfully nostalgic. They were on better terms now than they had been, but still lacked the easy camaraderie of days gone by.

“I know,” Loki replied tiredly, allowing the touch to remain for a second before shrugging it away.

“I am sure Stark will be grateful.”

“Of course he will,” Loki said, his voice a little harsher than before. But when Thor merely watched him with that irritatingly sympathetic expression, Loki glanced away. “I did only what any of the others would have done, if they had been able.”

“Loki,” Thor said softly, reaching out like he was going to touch Loki again but pausing just shy of his shoulder. Loki wasn’t sure that he liked the way that Thor’s voice deepened at the end of his name, a sure-fire sign that he was about to say something that would make Loki uncomfortable. “I am merely trying to be sure that you are well.”

Once again, Loki found it difficult to hold Thor’s gaze.

For all that Thor could sometimes be ignorant about what was happening around him, he was far from unintelligent. When he cared to use them, Thor’s observation skills were actually annoyingly accurate. Loki was just used to using misdirection–

He didn’t want Thor to see just how pathetic he truly was, and he just had to hope that Thor had not already worked it out.

“Come on,” Thor said firmly, clearly realising that Loki wasn’t going to reply. “I know that you are tired, but I also know that you will not rest until you have seen that Stark is awake and well.”

 _Ah_. Well. That was unfortunate.

—•—

The journey to the hospital was agonisingly long, the yellow car moving far slower than any form of transportation Loki was used to. But Rogers had taken Anthony in the quinjet, and Loki was far too exhausted to risk transporting himself. Loki had hoped that they could commandeer one of the police vehicles, but Thor had dragged him over to one of the bright yellow ones before Loki could offer a protest.

Between their armour, Thor’s bulk, and Mjölnir, there wasn’t much room in the back of the cab, even with them both holding their helmets in their laps. Loki felt like he’d been stuffed inside a tin can, and his anxiousness and nervousness over what awaited him at the hospital did not help at all. It was small and cramped and hot, the air conditioner didn’t seem to be working and the seats had a faint scent that was suspiciously close to that of regurgitated food.

Thor, though, was a bubble of energy despite the grim setting, fiddling and bouncing and refusing to sit still. Unfortunately, his general brightness seemed to encourage interaction, and Loki almost groaned in annoyance when the woman in the front seat began to talk.

“I saw what happened to Iron Man,” the driver said, her voice low and sad. “I’m sorry. Is he going to be all right?”

“Be quiet, and drive faster,” Loki snapped, not wanting to be reminded of the blood that still stained his hands. It was satisfying, though, to watch the woman tense in her seat, clearly uncomfortable with her back to Loki’s hostile glare.

“Loki!” Thor gasped. “She is only trying to be kind!” Then, upon meeting Loki’s unapologetic gaze, he shook his head in exasperated acceptance and leaned forward against the centre of the partition, forcing Loki to press even closer against the window. “I apologise for my brother,” he said. “He cares for—”

“Thor,” Loki hissed. “If you value your life—”

“There is no need for concern,” Thor said, his bright voice betrayed by the spark of amusement in his gaze. “I am sure that–” He paused, and checked the driver’s ID tag, “–Emily is a very competent driver. We will not come to any harm while under her care, even if we do engage in conversation.”

Loki refused to rise to the bait. It was clear as day what Thor was trying to do, and while Loki half appreciated the attempt at distraction, it wasn’t enough to remove the image of Anthony dying in his arms from his mind.

At least Emily appeared to have been scared into silence, and Loki felt no remorse as he revelled in the quiet that followed. In the uncomfortable and cramped space, Loki was glad for at least some small measure of peace, even if it wasn’t enough to silence his darker thoughts.

When they finally pulled up outside the hospital, Loki unfolded himself from the car and strode inside without a word. Thor was slower, needing more time to extract himself from the too-small vehicle, and Loki made it to the desk before he had even entered the building, the crowd of humans parting for him the moment they saw his blood-stained armour.

The harried nurse at the desk spared Loki only a fleeting glance as he continued to tap at his computer. “Who are you here to see?”

“Tony Stark,” Loki said firmly.

The nurse looked up properly at that, his lips already beginning to form a dismissal, but just as the mortals in line had, he recognised Loki immediately and uttered out a ward number with his next rather nervous breath.

Thor caught up as Loki made it into the elevator, his grin finally gone. He twisted Mjölnir in his hands as the elevator brought them up to the designated floor, his eyes distant as if caught in a good memory.

When they reached the ward, though, they encountered a problem.

Anthony didn’t have any family, but they had allowed Captain Rogers in on the basis of their engagement. Unfortunately, that courtesy could not extend to anyone else, and the nurses refused to allow Loki and Thor into the room.

Thor, predictably, put up a bit of a fuss, and in moments Rogers entered the hallway through a door to the left. Now that he knew which room was Anthony’s Loki could have stolen in himself, but it proved unnecessary. With both Thor and Captain America standing before her, the nurse had not been inclined to argue.

Loki was mystified at the out-of-character acceptance, but Rogers explained before Loki even thought to ask.

“You’re his friend, and he’ll want to thank you,” Rogers said with a casual shrug. “You saved his life.”

It was close to what Thor had said, and Loki could do nothing about it but avert his gaze and try to keep from grinding his teeth. He didn’t want to be _thanked_.

He knew better than to complain, though, recognising that Rogers’ misguided evaluation was the only thing allowing him to enter the room. He would have bent over backwards and done whatever Rogers asked if it meant that he could be in that room to see Anthony wake up.

The room was quite large, with only the one bed pushed up against the middle of one of the walls. Other than that, though, it was hardly interesting– white and sparsely decorated, the only other furniture a hard chair by the bed and an armchair in the corner. Loki left his helmet by the door and made straight for the bed, finding the person lying in it of far more importance than the décor.

There were a few machines in the room, but they were all turned off and pushed to the side, not a single one connected to Anthony. Loki took that as a good sign, but pressed his fingers to the inside of Anthony’s wrist to feel his heartbeat for himself just the same.

Anthony’s heartbeat was slightly irregular but that was normal for him since the surgery, Loki knew. It was strong and at least at a healthy frequency, and Loki felt the final lingering wisps of his fear fade away.

Anthony truly was going to be fine.

Rogers passed time by pacing back and forth, his footsteps consistent enough that they faded into the background, and Loki took the time to simply soothe his nerves with the sight and feel of the person he had almost lost. He did not know how long he stayed there, eventually sitting in the chair but keeping his fingers curled around Anthony’s wrist, assuring himself with that strong beat while his gaze followed the rise and fall of Anthony’s scarred chest where it rested under the thin hospital sheets.

“Anthony would hate this,” Loki said into the silence, speaking more to himself than due to any intention to be heard.

“What do you mean?” Rogers asked with a mix of curiosity and concern.

Loki shrugged, not bothering to look away from Anthony’s peaceful expression. “He doesn’t like hospitals.”

“I know,” Rogers said, and Loki could hear the frown in his voice. “But you saw his injuries. He needed to get the proper care.”

Loki nodded, too tired and too used to not being heard to bother chasing that debate. He hadn’t meant for Rogers to hear, anyway.

Rogers returned to his pacing, and Loki remained by Anthony’s side. He hardly took any notice when Banner came in, wearing a fresh set of clothes and arguing his rights as Anthony’s doctor. Of course, Banner didn’t hold the proper qualification to claim such a thing, but Anthony had, rather stubbornly, listed his ‘science bro’ as such on his own medical records. And besides, once again, the hospital staff were not inclined to argue, though Loki could hear a couple of nurses muttering angrily out in the corridor. It really was a benefit to have a Hulk in your corner. Loki didn’t turn when Banner took a seat on the armchair, and simply continued tracing shapes and prayers into the tough skin of Anthony’s palm with the pads of his fingers.

So it was that Loki was the first to notice as Anthony’s brown eyes finally blinked open, murky and unfocused but so very, very alive.

Relief coursed through him fast enough to weaken his knees, and he couldn’t hold on to the gush of air that escaped his lips in a sigh. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to catch Rogers’ attention, and Loki’s time at Anthony’s side was immediately brought to an end.

Loki could have held his ground against the shove to his shoulder– strong for human, but compared to Loki’s strength it was _nothing_. But he once again allowed himself to be pushed the side, knowing it would only incite an argument if he stayed– and Anthony deserved better than that. Anthony deserved nothing less than to wake quietly and peacefully in the arms of the person that he, for some mystifying reason, _loved_.

But when Anthony’s eyes finally focused, they weren’t full of the shining adoration that usually made Loki sick to see.

They were first confused, and then—

Angry.

It didn’t make much sense, but Loki wasn’t given the time to contemplate it before his love began to speak.

“Steve?” Anthony asked– and that would have certainly fallen within the realm of expected first words, save for the fact that it was spoken with an edge of pure malice.

Captain Rogers did not make it past a mere questioning frown before Anthony spoke again.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”


	2. Confusion

It’s a sad fact that Tony is rather used to waking up in a hospital room. From workshop explosions to kidnappings to surgeries, it had happened far too many times to count over the course of his life– and while one more was a little unsettling, it certainly wasn’t _surprising_.

Despite that, Tony couldn’t help but wonder why Pepper had let it happen. She should know how much he hated hospitals, that he’d much rather have his own trusted doctor come to the Tower on a home visit than actually have to go into the sterile-smelling building with the nosy civilians and the clinical, white walls. Even after Afghanistan, Tony’s check-ups had taken place in the safety of his own living room.

Still, the hospital itself was no biggie. After all, yeah, he didn’t like it but he was _used_ to it, and he’d known that being Iron Man would land him in a hospital more than just a few times.

His reason for being there in the first place was a bit confusing, however. The events of the day were a bit blurry in his mind– he remembered the meeting that morning, and he remembered going to visit Rhodey, to help him with his rehab. The new leg braces Tony had whipped up had been working well, and Rhodey had managed to cross the entire room unassisted. The sight still hurt, but it was _progress_.

But Tony, despite currently being in a hospital bed, felt fine. He had no memory of a fight, or of being mugged, or of a lab accident. There was just… nothing.

Until, that is, his gaze caught on the person leaning forward over his bed– a person who _should_ _not_ have been there, but very well might have been the very explanation Tony was looking for.

Because—

_No._

There’s no way that was—

“Steve?” Tony asked harshly, recent memories of a cold bunker and four broken ribs cutting through any chance of an attempt at civility and rousing him rather effectively out of his post-surgical haze. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Tony?” Steve asked, his voice soft and caring and confused and _fuck_ , what the hell? “What do you mean? Of course I’m here.”

“He might be confused,” someone else said, a voice that was deep and familiar and _impossible—_

“And what the _fuck_ are _you_ doing here?” Tony asked, scrambling at his sheets in an attempt to get more upright, staring at the Asgardian bastard who had somehow managed to make his way into the hospital room.

Loki’s expression slackened, but only for a moment– before Tony was even sure he’d seen the touch of agony, those green eyes turned cruel and icy and a smirk flashed sharp enough to cut glass. Just like Tony remembered.

“Confused,” Loki said, nodding like he had confirmed his theory.

“Hell yeah I’m confused,” Tony snapped. “Last I saw of you, you were being carted off to prison for _trying to take over our planet—”_ Except, no, that wasn’t right either. Hadn’t Thor said that Loki was dead?

Almost frantically, Tony turned to Steve, because he might be a fucking _asshole_ but he had to be lesser of two evils in this scenario. Steve, though, hardly even seemed to notice that Loki was in the room. His focus was entirely on Tony, his eyes wide and watery. He reached out and placed his hand over Tony’s, holding it softly.

Tony yanked his hand away instantly.

_What the fuck?_

“Tony?” Steve said again. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Tony asked incredulously. “You really have to ask that? I wake up after who the hell knows what and the two people at my bedside have both tried to kill me—"

“What?” It was Steve’s turn to flinch back, retreating a few steps.

“Don’t act dumb,” Tony snapped. “Is that why I’m here? Did you decide to go for round two—”

“Tony, no. You were attacked by a Doombot—”

“Yeah, right,” Tony interrupted. “So a Doombot stole your face, took your shield, and slammed it into my ribs—”

“Excuse me?” Loki stepped forward, angling his body so he was in front of Steve. And, fuck—

“Loki, you saw what happened,” Steve said, spreading his hands. “You said yourself that he’s just confused.”

The scene was so ridiculous that Tony couldn’t respond, his mouth gaping as his gaze caught on the image of fucking _Loki_ standing between him and Steve. The god’s jaw was clenched and his hands were curled in tight fists at his sides, while Steve merely tilted his head with a frown, like he understood why Loki was upset but didn’t think he needed to be. It almost seemed like Loki was trying to protect him, but that didn’t make any sense at all.

There was clearly something very, very wrong here, something that had gone straight over Tony’s head. He was already looking to the exit, his hands clenched in his sheet and ready to fling it away when they both turned to him, as if waiting for him to say something.

Two pairs of eyes bore into Tony, both of them belonging to people who by rights should hate everything about him but were only staring with nothing but concern. It was odd and strange and made _no fucking_ _sense_ , as if he’d woken in a bloody parallel world like in Star Trek.

It made Tony want to _run_.

His own gaze was darting from blue to green to the smooth, white surface of the door, and he was on the edge of throwing himself across the room in a desperate bid to see if the rest of the world was just as mad when a soft voice from behind Steve snapped him back to his senses.

“Tony.”

Another relic from Tony’s past, another impossibility. 

“Bruce?” Tony asked, blinking rapidly to clear his gaze. “You’re… _Bruce?”_

“Yes,” Bruce said carefully, standing from his armchair in the corner and crossing the room to stand beside Loki. “That’s me.”

“Oh,” Tony replied. “Okay. Maybe I am in a Mirror Universe.”

Bruce gave him an odd look, but before Tony could try and decipher it, Steve interrupted again.

“Tony, you nearly died,” he said. “I had to watch you fall from the sky, and I thought…”

“We all watched it,” Loki cut in. “It wasn’t pretty, but you’re clearly too stubborn to die, Stark.”

“Well, you’ve watched me fall before,” Tony snapped, and something sparked in Loki’s gaze.

“You don’t normally joke about that,” he said.

“Normally?” Tony asked incredulously. “Since when do you and I have a _normally—"_

“Tony,” Bruce said again, reminding him that _god_ , Bruce was _there_ , he wasn’t dead he was, he was in the same room alive and well and—

“Bruce,” Tony said, feeling like he was being pulled in a thousand directions but glad to have at least one solid question he could ask. “When… how did you come back?”

Unlike the other two, Bruce didn’t appear surprised by the question. His brow smoothed in thoughtful interest as if he had just solved a riddle, but his voice was still hesitant.

“I think...” Bruce paused, his lips pressing together in a grim line.

“Bruce,” Tony said firmly. He glanced between Loki and Steve once again, taking in the way that other than mild irritation Steve didn’t seem to mind Loki at all, and how Loki seemed to be harbouring a streak of resentment that was almost entirely hidden. Between the three of them, Bruce was definitely the one he would choose to trust. “Just tell me. What’s going on?”

“Before I tell you, I need you to answer one question, Tony,” Bruce said. “What’s today’s date?”

Tony frowned, both because that kind of question never heralded anything good, and because, well, that was a hard enough thing to answer on a good day, what with all the multi-day binges he’d pulled in his workshop. But he’d had a meeting with Everett Ross that morning, which both Pepper and JARVIS had harangued him about– not that they’d needed to. Ensuring the success of the Sokovia Accords was rather high on his priorities list these days, and unlike most meetings, he had been sure not to forget the date of that one.

“It’s July 12th,” Tony said confidently. And he knew couldn’t have been far off, since his extensive experience with hospitals had at least given him the benefit of being really good at estimating how long he’d been out, and from how generally good he felt it surely couldn’t have been more than a day.

But... the way that Bruce’s face fell, that Steve’s breath caught in his throat, that Loki actually fucking _flinched_ indicated something a bit more concerning.

That couldn’t be right, though. He felt awake, alert, and his muscles were far from stiff. His body hardly hurt at all, actually– in fact, it felt _better_ than before, like the left over aches and pains from the battering he’d taken in Siberia had finally stopped hurting.  But then, that could also mean—

Oh, fuck.

What if... he’d been out long enough for his injuries to heal? What if he’d been in a coma or something?

Steve and Loki looked about exactly the same as the last time he’d seen either of them, though that was only to be expected, and he hadn’t seen Bruce in over a year, anyway. He had no range of reference in that room for how long it had been– even the clock on the wall only gave the time, and there was no calendar in sight. So despite the long pause, Tony still hadn’t thought of an alternate explanation by the time Bruce spoke again.

“July 12th,” Bruce said weakly. “Of what year?”

Something thick suddenly became lodged in Tony’s throat. He knew what that question meant.

“2016,” he said, forcing the number out between his teeth. “What... how long was I out?”

“You were only out for a couple of hours, Tony,” said Bruce. “But...” he trailed off, a flash of concern in his eyes. Despite the year apart, Tony recognised that look– Bruce was worried that Tony was going to react badly.

So, instead, Tony looked to Steve. Steve, after all, had no reason to be concerned for Tony’s welfare– but rather than finding the expected stoicism, Tony found that Steve looked stricken, his face white and waxy like all the blood had been drained away. His eyes were wide, glassy, so distant and yet absolutely terrified. It certainly wasn’t a look Tony was used to seeing on Steve, and Tony didn’t know if he could make heads or tails of it.

Tony turned away. Steve seemed to be going through some shit, but Tony was the one who was about to receive some, well, _very_ bad news if the looks on everyone’s faces were anything to go by.

Steve could fucking wait.

Except. It was sort of looking like maybe Tony wouldn’t receive the news at all, because Steve was doing his frozen thing and Bruce still looked like he’d swallowed a lemon, and—

Well. Thankfully, they weren’t the only ones in the room. It was strange, though, that out of all of them it was Loki who decided to take it upon himself to give Tony his answer.

“Anthony,” said Loki, speaking firmly and without pity. “The date is September 3rd.”

 _Oh,_ Tony thought, _that’s not so—_

“2019,” Loki finished before Tony could end the thought, and Tony…

Well.

“Ah,” he said. “Crap.”

—•—

It was clear that they were attempting to break it all to him slowly.

There were a lot of furtive glances, like they were all trying to calculate what they should and should not tell him, not wanting to shock him further. They started with the easy things– who the current president was, how many times Thor had exploded the toaster since Tony had last fixed it, and the current stock value of SI. Tony cut straight through those, though, just wanting to be told what had happened with the Accords, why Steve was there, how the fuck Loki wasn’t locked up in Asgard. Thankfully, Thor had been waiting outside the room, and the nurses had let him in when they were sure Tony wasn’t distressed. It was nice to see someone who didn’t cause his self-preservation instincts to go haywire. Thor, after all, had always been a solid presence, unwilling to get caught in petty arguments and preferring to deal with things head on. Also, Thor might not have been the most unbiased of opinion when it came to evaluating the trustworthiness of his brother, but the guy stood the best chance out of all of them if Loki did drop back off the deep end, save perhaps Bruce.

And god, _Bruce_.

Tony had hardly been able to look away from him while they waited for a CT scanner to free up, noting the changes. Bruce looked older, his hair greyer and face more lined, yet at the same time he appeared far more relaxed than he had before he’d disappeared during the fight with Ultron. Tony couldn’t wait to get back to the Tower and spend some time with Bruce, asking him all the questions about what he’d seen and done and making sure that his science-bro was _all right_ after so long away.

But of course, Bruce had been back for over two years. He’d come with Thor and Loki, and their reunion, according to Thor, had been ‘as glorious as it was full of tears’. Tony didn’t quite believe that, but Loki had been smirking in the background during the recount. That smirk meant truth, Tony knew it.

Regardless. They couldn’t head back to the Tower immediately no matter how much Tony wanted to, because, well. The CT scan.

Tony didn’t really see the need, but Steve was adamant that Tony have a CT scan, saying that there was clearly something happening inside his head that need to be fixed _as soon as possible_. Strangely, Loki argued strongly in Tony’s favour. Apparently, Loki had healed everything that was physically injured– he just hadn’t thought to check if any damage had been done even deeper. The memories had been lost in a fight against a _Doombot,_ of all things, and had not come back when his brain itself had been fixed.

Maybe they would, with time. Maybe they wouldn’t. It was something Tony was going to have to deal with but there was nothing he could do about it _now_ , and while Loki was probably an evil bastard he really did seem to be trying to help. Thor took him at his word, but the others were shaking their heads and needing the confirmation. It was only when Bruce sided with Steve that Tony finally caved.

Still, that meant several more hours of waiting before Tony could be discharged, which is what they had used to talk– though, yes. It had taken a while for Tony to get them onto the things he actually _wanted_ to talk about.

Loki, apparently, was there because Asgard had gone _boom_ in a rather spectacular manner, and the few that had survived that and a fight with some giant purple dude had settled on Earth. But the Trickster had both been made unwelcome and hadn’t really wished to stay with people who flinched every time he came near due to his parentage (which Tony didn’t really _get_ , but Thor had seemed tense while it was being explained even if Loki had appeared entirely relaxed, so Tony hadn’t pushed), so he’d agreed to join the Avengers in exchange for room and board.

The fight with ‘Thanos’, as Thor had called him amidst an apologetic glance to his brother, had also allegedly been what solved the Accords debate. Tony’s hard work had apparently paid off and the UN had allowed a few concessions, and the rogues had signed after everyone had banded together to defeat the invading alien.

Apparently, a mutual enemy had brought them together after friendship had split them apart.

How ironic.

Tony had managed to ask, with a straight face and a calm demeanour, whether or not he’d ever actually forgiven Steve for the lies.

Steve had looked strangely relieved when a nurse interrupted to inform them that the CT scan was ready.

Far too long lying still in a clunking machine was too high a price to learn nothing– because yeah, the CT scan turned up zilch. Loki was right– there was no longer any physical damage in his brain at all. The magic had fixed the injury but not the memories, and since this had not happened before there was no way of knowing what would happen next.

Tony was discharged with a clean bill of health, and they all headed back to Avengers Tower in the quinjet that Steve had left illegally parked on the roof.

They all gave Tony some space to himself for the trip, but that hadn’t been what he wanted.

Steve was piloting, but he looked caught in his own world, his brow creased and shoulders tense. Tony had been right earlier, when he thought that Steve was going through some shit, but he couldn’t quite work out what.

Thor was sitting next to his brother, the two of them whispering in hissed undertones that Tony couldn’t make out. It seemed like Thor was trying to console him about something, but Loki just seemed frustrated, shooting furtive glances between Tony and Steve when he thought no one was looking. The trickster looked wrecked, exhausted beyond measure. He was clearly trying to appear poised, but his neck was drooping and his spine beginning to curve and slump over the ridiculous helmet he held in his lap.

Bruce was the only one who looked relaxed, which was a change. It was clear the team dynamics had changed a whole lot, actually. There was one thing that had hit him solidly though, from the (mostly) comfortable way that all _four_ of Tony’s erstwhile companions had acted around each other to the softer and far more relaxed tilt to Bruce’s smile.

Three years in the future, and a whole lot of things were fucked up—

But the Avengers were a team, or maybe even a family. Even without everyone there, Tony could see that, but… he couldn’t help but wonder about how he fit in with the whole thing.

He didn’t hang around when they arrived home. The only one who followed him to the penthouse was Bruce, and they talked some more about getting Tony settled. But even though Tony had wanted to catch up, he was just so tired. Everything was so _overwhelming_ and Tony just needed time to process.

He didn’t say as much, but Bruce was perceptive enough to see it anyway.

“Are you sure you’re going to be all right?” Bruce asked as he paused by the elevator, brow furrowing in the special brand of concern that Tony had missed.

“Don’t worry, I’m not alone,” Tony replied. “JARVIS can help me.”

“Yes,” Bruce said, smiling fondly. “He’s good at that.”

Despite his exhaustion it took a while to settle– his fingers itched to google his name despite Bruce’s advice that he try not to take on too much at once, and his mind was screaming at him with the overload of information. The furniture in the living room had been moved around and Tony kept knocking into things that weren’t in their normal spot. Or, well, their _old_ spot, he supposed. Thankfully, his room was in the same place, although there were a few scuffs in the thick carpet that looked like someone had been through with a trolley or something in a hurry. The bathroom was almost the same as well, except that there were two toothbrushes by the sink. Tony stared at them for a moment, his eyes narrowed, but he shook it off and grabbed the one that looked similar enough to what he’d had before.

There were a few strange things, but that was only to be expected when he didn’t have all of the information.

Still, he was able to collapse into his too-large bed amongst sheets he didn’t recognise, and fell into a restless sleep.

—•—

“Good morning, Sir. You are in the penthouse of Avengers Tower. It is six-thirty-two am, Wednesday September 4th, 2019. The weather is fine with only few clouds, expecting to clear this afternoon.”

Tony groaned, and pulled his pillow over his head, the date still ringing through his mind in a painful echo. When he’d woken, he’d had a brief moment where everything was okay, but JARVIS’ usual spiel had blown that out of the water.

Well. It hadn’t _quite_ been JARVIS’ normal morning greeting, and while there was the chance that Tony had changed his preferences over the past couple years, it was more likely that JARVIS was trying to help. The year, for example, was not a normal addition. JARVIS would also normally give Tony an update on the number of messages and calls waiting for him, and of the meetings he had to attend that day, but he kept silent. No doubt Pepper was keeping everything in order, making it easier for him to adjust. After all, Tony would no doubt be useless in meetings that he didn’t have the context for.

Yesterday, Tony had been dealing with Everett Ross, the Accords, Rhodey’s rehab, and Peter Parker’s attempts to bite off more than he could chew. Today… well. Tony wasn’t entirely sure what he would need to be dealing with today, because wasn’t that the entire problem?

It took a shower and large mug of coffee for him to somewhat clear his head, and Tony was just debating whether he should head down to find someone to ask questions of when JARVIS spoke up.

“Sir, Doctor Banner is asking about your wellbeing,” he said quietly. “What should I tell him?”

“Tell him I’m fine,” Tony said automatically. Then, knowing that would likely only make Bruce worry more, he added, “Let him know I’ll head down soon, he doesn’t need to come up here.”

“Yes, Sir.” The agreement was in a neutral tone, nothing out of place, but Tony got the feeling that JARVIS wanted to say something else. And after a few moments of waiting, he was proven right– and this time, JARVIS’ voice was laced with emotion. “May I say, I am very glad that you are all right.”

Tony couldn’t help the frown at that despite being touched by the sentiment– because Tony _wasn’t_ all right, and JARVIS had to know that.

“Hey, J,” Tony asked, “what actually went down yesterday? I know I lost my memories but, everyone seemed really shaken.”

“That, Sir, would be because you almost died.”

Tony blinked. He knew it must have been bad, but… shit.

“How? What happened?”

“There was a fight between the Avengers and Doctor Doom, and the Avengers were losing,” JARVIS said. His voice was clinical, laying out facts without any of his usual emotion. “You chose to distract three Doombots alone while the others focused on arresting the real Von Doom. Mr Laufeyson was en route to help, but could not get to your location before you had already been struck down. You fell over a thousand feet. The suit cushioned most of your fall, but it still should have been fatal.”

Tony winced. “I’m sorry, buddy,” he said. “I don’t remember any of it, but I know it must have been rough.”

There was a telling pause before JARVIS replied. “Yes,” he said. “Thank goodness for Mr Laufeyson.”

JARVIS had used the name earlier, but it still took Tony a moment to place it– really, though, there was only one person that JARVIS could be talking about. He knew from the discussion in the hospital that Loki had been the one to heal him, but realising now that Loki had most likely – _almost certainly_ – saved his life…

Tony frowned. He’d been told that Loki was part of the team, that he had been for two years now. But Loki had looked beyond tired on the trip home– he had been completely and utterly drained. After all, from what the hospital doctors had said, Tony had been entirely healed, and he knew what a thousand-foot fall could do to a human body, even when inside an Iron Man suit. Loki hadn’t just healed enough to keep him alive, he’d gone the whole bloody five hundred miles.

It didn’t make sense, but then neither did the way that Tony had been able to decipher Loki’s expressions just as well as he had Steve and Bruce’s, like a skill that remained despite the fact that the memories of gaining it had slipped away.

_Three years._

Huh.

“Change of plans, J,” Tony said, pushing to his feet and finally heading to the elevator. “We’re not going to see Bruce after all.”

He was glad when JARVIS made no complaints, and simply began the motions of taking him where he needed to go. Because as helpful as he was sure Bruce would be—

Tony thought that it was beyond time he had a chat with the resident god of mischief.


	3. Curiosity

The first few hours back in Avengers Tower after Anthony had been released from the hospital were difficult to endure. Loki had managed to hold on to his composure all the way back, presenting nothing but a cool façade to anyone who bothered to look. Thor was the only one who seemed concerned for Loki, though, as most of the mortals’ furtive and sympathetic glances were aimed at either Rogers, who had been forgotten by his fiancé, or at Anthony himself.

Nobody cared that Loki had lost his friend.

No one except Thor, anyway, but his concerned glances and verbal attempts at comfort were even worse than everyone else’s ignorance. Loki took his leave as soon as he could, peeling away from the group the moment they arrived and asking JARVIS to take him to his quarters.

The sink was stained red and his hands were raw by the time Loki allowed himself to sit down in his living room, but even still he found it impossible to relax. Fingers twisting with the memory of blood, heart aching with the hurt of what almost was, and mind whirling through a thousand things yet always coming back to the same.

Knowing from experience that he would never be able to take his mind off Anthony, Loki tried to at least turn to more positive avenues of thought. The trauma of the day had ensured that fantasies were out of reach for now, but it wasn’t too difficult to think on what was happening several floors above.

Banner had been chosen to talk to the inventor about all they hadn’t had time for in the hospital, since despite Anthony not remembering the doctor’s return from Sakaar, he was the one that Anthony remembered being on best speaking terms with. After all, Rogers was not the only one who had betrayed Anthony over the Accords– Barton and Romanoff had ultimately sided with the Captain, and their presence would likely only create more stress.

Speaking of that fight over the Accords… Loki felt like his eyes had suddenly been opened. From the way the Avengers spoke of it these days, one would think it had been little more than a friendly scuffle, though Anthony always tensed on the rare occasion that it was brought up. Now however, thinking back to what Anthony had said after waking up, Loki grit his teeth with anger that was long overdue. Anthony had never given Loki the details of the Avengers’ falling out, since by the time Loki had followed Thor’s suggestion and joined the rag-tag team to get some peace and quiet away from New Asgard, Anthony and Rogers were already reconciled and in the process of pursuing a relationship.

But how? How had Anthony managed to find the compassion to forgive such a thing as _that?_

Well. Anthony had managed to forgive Loki, despite all that he had done. It should not be surprising that he had done something similar for Rogers.

 _Rogers_ , Loki thought, the name echoing through his mind with distaste. _Captain America_ , the man whose goodness was so very difficult to palate without feeling the urge to retch. The man who was adored and worshiped like the Aesir had once been in the days of old– the man who had everything in the world that Loki wanted.

Except… he didn’t quite have it all anymore, did he?

A better man might have immediately begun to do all they could to help their friend, but Loki had always been selfish. It wasn’t that he wanted Anthony to stay in the past, and he _ached_ at the knowledge that almost two years of friendship, the only _true friendship_ Loki had ever really known had been wiped away in a single instant. But on the other hand, in Anthony’s current memory he had never fallen in love. This was a Tony Stark who still _disliked_ Steve Rogers, and Loki felt that he would have to be an idiot to not feel happy at that fact.

And in his own humble opinion, Loki Laufeyson is about as far from being an idiot as it is possible to get.

Still, it was hard to plot out a plan of attack without all the pieces. After all, Loki was not aware of what Anthony was being told. He’d heard the other Avengers discussing theories while he’d stopped in the kitchen to grab some much needed food, but they didn’t seem to know either– Banner, apparently, had simply told them all that Anthony needed some space.

It had also been decided that most of those who had fought against Anthony in an airport in Germany would vacate the Tower until Anthony’s memories returned, so as to allow him to focus on recovery. Maximoff volunteered to leave immediately, and Wilson, Barton, and Barnes followed behind without complaint, heading to either the compound in upstate New York or their own homes.

But those things were immaterial, and slipped straight from Loki’s thoughts like water. He continued to picture what Anthony might be doing at that very moment– complaining to JARVIS, probably, or perhaps throwing himself into his workshop (no doubt against doctor’s orders) to take his mind off the missed three years. Or– well. He’d had a long day. It was more likely than anything that Anthony had chosen to do exactly as Loki had, and was currently trying to get some rest.

The peaceful thought was enough to lull him into a restless slumber, the day’s difficulties melting seamlessly into the more regular tune of Loki’s nightmares.

—•—

Loki blinked back into consciousness to the sound of his name in an artificial voice– artificial, but far more real to Loki than some of the others in Avengers Tower. JARVIS had always been kind to him, and while at first Loki had thought it was on Anthony’s instructions out of some misguided sympathy, it hadn’t taken long for him to realise that JARVIS was in fact intelligent by his own merit, and had been acting as such because _he_ thought Loki deserved a kind word.

It was only when the AI spoke again that Loki realised he still had not given a response.

“Mr Laufeyson?”

“Yes, JARVIS?” Loki asked, using the armrest to push himself upright.

“Mr Stark wishes to speak with you,” JARVIS answered. “I apologise for waking you, but I would ask that you accept his intrusion.”

Loki shook his head, though in an effort to clear it rather than in refusal. It wasn’t like JARVIS to apologise without including a dash of sarcasm– though Loki thought it was likely that the events of the previous day had hit the AI just as hard as the rest of them, if not harder.

“What is it that he wants?” Loki asked.

“To speak with you,” JARVIS repeated. 

Loki rolled his eyes, used to the AI’s sass. “And the topic of our conversation?”

“I think that he merely wishes to get to know you,” JARVIS said. “I believe… that he is in need of a distraction.”

Well, _that_ was certainly something Loki was capable of providing, though he did wish that Anthony would seek him out for another reason. Still, it was far superior to not seeing Anthony at all – especially taking into consideration that Anthony was coming to see _him_ so early in the morning, most likely before anyone else – and so Loki quickly stood and brushed himself down. He knew that his nap on the couch could hardly have made him look presentable, but the food and sleep had been enough revitalisation for at least simple tasks, and Loki was able to freshen up his clothes and hair with a simple push of his seiðr.

“How long?” Loki asked, wondering if he would have time to nip downstairs and take something out of the fridge for breakfast.

But, of course—

“He is already here.”

Anthony walked into the room like he owned it– which was the truth, Loki supposed, but Anthony had always respected Loki’s need for space. It was something Loki had always appreciated, but he understood why Anthony would need to wrap himself in a layer of confidence now. After all, Anthony only remembered him as the monster who attacked his city. Loki could recall the weeks and months it had taken to gain Anthony’s trust like it was only yesterday (for while Anthony had certainly been the first of the Avengers to accept Loki’s presence in the Tower, his mind was far too sharp to trust Loki implicitly after only a short period), and he doubted he would find it any easier upon the second attempt. Anthony had no reason to trust him, after all.

Except... despite a touch of nervousness around the edges of his expression that Loki could only pick out because he knew that face so well, Anthony’s comfort did not appear faked. There was something different to the way he looked at Loki that he hadn’t been expecting.

He wasn’t angry, or hateful– just curious.

“JARVIS tells me that you saved my life,” Anthony said, a statement of fact not to be disputed.

“I didn’t do it for thanks,” Loki replied, echoing his words from the night before. He didn’t want to sound dismissive, but he didn’t want empty gratitude either.

“No,” Anthony said, tilting his head. “I don’t believe that you did.”

It wasn’t a question, and Loki didn’t feel the need to respond.

Anthony leaned forward. “So why _did_ you do it?”

“We are teammates,” Loki said, not sure what Anthony was getting at. “Would you have not done the same for one of the others?”

“It’s not just that, though,” Anthony said, narrowing his eyes. “You didn’t have to do as much as you did– hell, you could have healed me enough to get to the hospital and left the rest for the doctors. But you didn’t leave me with so much as a scratch.”

The untruthful response that was ready on the tip of Loki’s tongue faded before he could voice it. He didn’t want to lie, but neither could he be honest, caught in the middle of what was right and what was best.

This conversation was a lot harder than he thought it would be.

It was like he’d been thrown into the past, talking to a man with Anthony’s face but none of the easy friendship they had managed to forge between them. Loki’s Anthony hadn’t known about Loki’s true feelings, but he’d trusted enough in how much Loki could care for a friend to not question the more affectionate things that he did. But the man who stood before Loki now had no context, and he was closer to being able to recognise Loki’s actions for what they were.

Loki wasn’t sure that this was a conversation he could successfully walk away from without damaging something terribly. Ignoring the way he felt was one thing, but he didn’t think he could go so far as to completely deny it. It would hurt too much, just as it was a knife twisting in his chest to see Anthony distrust him, when only yesterday he was the _one_ person throughout the entirety of the Nine who would put his faith in Loki without question. Loki could not even claim that with Thor, not with the same level of certainty.

So, instead of saying something deep or profound, he went for a shrug and a throwaway comment, something that wasn’t a lie but wasn’t quite the truth, either.

“Maybe I just like you.”

“That’s not an answer,” Anthony instantly responded. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“What does it matter?” Loki asked, perhaps speaking a little harsher than he meant to. “You do not remember it.”

“You think that just because I can’t remember that it doesn’t _matter?”_ Anthony asked, and Loki couldn’t respond because, well, of course he did not think that. But Anthony continued quickly, not waiting for an answer regardless. “You remember, don’t you? You do, Steve does, Bruce, JARVIS– hell, even Thor. Everyone remembers, but I don’t, and I say that fucking _matters_. It’s unbalanced, it’s– it’s like I’m playing a freaking game of chess with you all, except you’re not letting me look at the board.”

Loki grimaced. “We’re not playing a game—”

“No?” Anthony asked, tilting his head. “Then why aren’t you showing me your hand?”

“I wish I could,” Loki muttered under his breath, before looking back up and catching Anthony’s eye once again. “I didn’t mean it that way, and you know it. It doesn’t matter because if you can’t remember what happened between us then its impact is irrelevant, is it not?”

“But you’re still impacted, so it _is_ unbalanced,” Anthony shot back. “That’s my point. And okay, sure, maybe whatever happened was fuck all, maybe I was absolutely nothing to you and you just decided to save me to win points with the others. But you still know me better than I know you, so I’m still right.” As he finished, Anthony tilted his head, waiting with a smirk.

They both knew that he’d won the… argument, as it were. Because _maybe_ Loki could cope with Anthony not remembering him, but he couldn’t stand to see the bond between them dismissed in such a way. Even though their friendship hadn’t been all that Loki yearned for, it was still the most precious thing in the world.  

“You are not _nothing,_ you are my friend,” Loki said sharply. “And I know that I am not overstating things when I say that I was _yours_ , too.”

The words rung sharply with far more truth than Loki meant them to, and there was a moment where Loki was worried that he’d given too much away. But the pensive look on Anthony’s face wasn’t surprised or repulsed like Loki would have expected had his affections caught Anthony’s notice– rather, it seemed that he was simply turning the words over in his mind, connecting them to what he already knew to make sense of what was happening.

And Loki was suddenly struck with the realisation that Anthony _wasn’t angry_ , at least not with him. All the things in the world, all the people who were keeping him in the dark, all the confusion and the white noise and everything else that was chitter-chattering and no doubt pushing him to the brink of insanity—

He was mad at all of that, but he wasn’t mad at _Loki_. It had been frustration fuelling his harsher words, not anything born of dislike– and Loki felt that realisation sink deep inside him like a cooling balm.

“That’s just the crux of everything, isn’t it?” Anthony eventually asked, rubbing his hands over his face and looking up at Loki imploringly. “I can’t tell you whether you’re right, because I don’t remember _._ I don’t remember being your friend, and I don’t remember what the hell happened between me and—” Anthony cut himself off with a growl, gritting his teeth in frustration. Loki waited, giving him time to calm. “Look,” Anthony started a moment later, his voice still harsh. “There’s all these people telling me different things, throwing information at me and asking questions. I’m supposed to be working with the UN, buddies with you, friends with _Steve_ , all of these things that people _say_ that I am but I can’t _remember_ , and to me that’s all stuff that’s happened to someone else.”

“I thought you didn’t want people to hide things from you,” Loki asked shrewdly. And maybe it was an insensitive thing to say, but he felt like he wouldn’t be able to help unless he was first able to understand.

Anthony laughed, a bitter, aching thing that made Loki wish he could reach out and cradle him in his arms. “There’s a difference between being given the sit rep and having those things piled on top of me like the world’s worst game of improv.”

“Did you tell them that?”

When Anthony just looked confused, Loki added–

“Did you tell them that you’d rather be allowed to work things out for yourself, or perhaps with JARVIS’ help?”

“Of course I did,” Anthony snorted. “But you were there at the hospital. Hey, you saw what they were like about the CT scan.”

“I’m sorry,” Loki said. “They should listen to you more often.”

Anthony smiled. It was small and sad, but that made it no less real. “We really were friends, huh?”

“Well,” Loki said, allowing a soft smile of his own to curl at the edges of his lips. “I certainly believe so.”

An odd expression flashed across Anthony’s face– a mix of surprise, something that Loki almost mistook for fondness, and that ever-present curiosity. But despite the oddness it was just so, so familiar, and Loki felt himself beginning to relax properly for the first time since Anthony had fallen. Because this was still the same Anthony who praised Loki’s seiðr, who teased him for his invariable colour scheme (like he had any room to talk), who laughed and smiled and greeted Loki every time like he was the brightest part of his day. Anthony, who cared so much that his only response to learning of Loki’s true parentage had been to announce his intentions to take Odin’s other eye.

Loki hadn’t lost his friend after all. Anthony was still the same person– a few missing memories didn’t change that.

And as Anthony stared at him with that curiosity still burning bright hot, Loki stared right back. He wasn’t entirely sure what Anthony was looking for, and he didn’t know whether or not he found it. But his next words were enough to spark up a little bit of hope for what was to come.

“Do you think we could start over?”

“I would like that,” Loki said– but then that dark corner of his mind that bled with self-doubt couldn’t help wonder if this was an offer Anthony had extended to anyone else. After all, Anthony knew he had been friends with Loki before and was trying to rekindle the same. Had Rogers also been given the option of starting again? Was Anthony offering friendship to Loki with one hand, and partnership to Rogers with the other?

That shouldn’t rankle Loki so, not when he had grown so accustomed to living in Rogers’ shadow. The reaction was as irrational as his feelings, because _yes,_ Anthony may have lost three years but he was _still the same person_. He had fallen in love with Rogers deeply enough to marry him before. In all likelihood, the same would happen again.

Except… there was one little thing in Anthony’s speech that had stood out, that hadn’t quite fit with the truths that Anthony should have been told.

 _Friends_ with Steve, Anthony had said.

There was an opening to exploit in that, Loki knew it.

So—

“I don’t suppose you’ll have the time though,” Loki added, being sure to add a short shrug.

Anthony tilted his head in bemusement. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Loki drawled, using a cocky attitude to cover the nervousness. “I thought that you would be spending it with Captain Rogers.”

To Loki’s satisfaction, Anthony responded with a confused frown.

“Wait,” he said. “Why would I spend time with Steve?”

“To get to know him better, of course,” Loki said, creasing his brow into a frown to match Anthony’s. “To remind yourself of how you fell in love with him, so that you might be prepared to reaffirm your engagement.”

The look on Anthony’s face could only be described as pure, unadulterated horror, and Loki felt it as a visceral curl of pleasure deep in his chest.

“Please tell me this is a trick,” Anthony said, his voice thick.

“I would never trick you with something such as this,” Loki said, tilting his head in an echo of how Anthony had earlier. “Did you not know?”

Anthony stared at him for a moment, and when he next spoke, it wasn’t to Loki at all.

“JARVIS?”

The need for a confirmation left a bit of a bite, but given the circumstances Loki couldn’t truly begrudge it.

“Captain Rogers and Doctor Banner agreed that it would be for the best if you were eased into the information regarding your current relationship status,” the AI answered. He sounded disapproving, though Loki wasn’t entirely sure of what or whom– in that moment, there were more than a couple of possible candidates. Loki just hoped it wasn’t aimed at him.

“The best for who?” Anthony asked, his previous harshness returning. “You’re telling me that I’m—fuck, how the hell did I—”

“It has been three years,” JARVIS broke in, clearly hoping to curb Anthony’s stress levels before they rose too high.

Anthony groaned, as if he had heard those words far too many times to be able to conjure any other response to them. But, thankfully, they seemed to do their job, and the tension bled from his shoulders as he looked up at Loki as if searching for answers.

“I just don’t understand,” Anthony said weakly. “He hates me.”

“Anthony... He does not hate you.” The words felt like lead in Loki’s mouth, heavy and nothing but pure poison, but… Norns be damned, he just couldn’t stand the pain in Anthony’s eyes. “I do not know exactly how you reconciled, for the two of you were already together when I joined your little band of superheroes. But I do know that he asked you marry him because he loves you, and when you told me about it afterward, you were more excited than I had seen you about anything since DUM-E learned the tune of something called ‘smoke on the water’.”

“DUM-E learned to sing?” Anthony asked blankly.

“Well, he learned to play a tune by squirting his extinguisher in a certain rhythm,” Loki explained, all the while watching Anthony for anything worrying. “I have yet to witness it, but since you informed me that the spectacle was rather messy I think that it is an experience I don’t mind missing.”

Anthony stared at Loki like he was completely lost for a moment, before shaking his head and letting the confusion be overruled by determination.

“So you weren’t there?” Anthony asked firmly.

“No,” Loki repeated. “I believe Thor had dragged me to his favourite restaurant that day, but you told me that DUM-E had taken his fire extinguisher and—”

“No, I mean. You weren’t there when I agreed to–” Anthony grit his teeth, “– _marry_ Steve?”

Loki only managed to force down his wince at _that_ image through the utilisation of months and years of sheer practice. 

“I was not,” he said, voice completely level. “As I believe I said before, you were already a couple when I joined your team, and… Rogers proposed on one of your dates. So no, I was not present.”

“That’s right,” Anthony groaned. “You did say that. So that means you don’t know why the hell I decided to forgive him, either.”

“Sir, if I may,” JARVIS said, and Loki nearly sighed with relief. Of _course_ JARVIS would know, and would be more than willing to help his creator. “Captain Rogers and yourself spent many weeks _reacquainting_ yourselves before you would even properly speak to each other.”

Anthony’s face went blank for a moment, before that determination returned once again. And then, without warning, he turned on his heel and headed for the elevator.

“Where you going?” Loki asked, doing his utmost to keep the desperation from his tone and knowing that he hadn’t quite managed it. Anthony was distracted enough, though, that he thankfully didn’t seem to notice.

But that was yet another slip in a conversation riddled with far too many. Loki couldn’t rely on Anthony’s distraction as a crutch forever. He needed to get his head back in the game, or he ran the risk of Anthony discovering the truth. But then again… given the circumstances…

Would that really be such a bad thing?

Anthony had paused in the hall, but he only half turned back.

“Sorry, Loki,” Anthony said, shaking his head and sounding honestly regretful. “I don’t mean to cut and run and you really have been helpful, but I just… I think I need to speak to Steve, now.”

He left after a final, apologetic smile, leaving Loki’s mind reeling once again with far too many dangerous thoughts. Because while Loki wasn’t entirely sure what had been said to spark such a sudden reaction, he knew exactly what he _hoped_. He knew he was still missing a few pieces of the puzzle but several more had just slotted into place, and there was a sudden opportunity flashing before him that yes, he would be dull to discount.

However.

Loki had only _just_ managed to hold on to his friendship with Anthony, and taking a step toward something more would only put what he’d already gained at risk. Because while the thought of even the slightest chance of risking their friendship made Loki feel sick to the stomach, Loki knew that one of the single most brutal truths of the Nine is that in order to have a chance at happiness, you need to be willing to lose that which you hold most dear. Was he willing to put their friendship in the line of fire while he pursued an incredibly slim chance at happiness?

The answer, surprisingly, was immediately and irrevocably clear.

In a dangerous game you must be willing to run the risk if you wish a chance at the reward.

But _oh_ , the reward would be worth it.


	4. Deception

Tony probably should have taken the time to process what Loki and JARVIS had told him, to think it over and come up with what he wanted to say so that he could walk in and confront Steve with a clear head.

But hey, if everyone else wanted him to react rationally, then perhaps they should have given him a heads up.

He wasn’t the one in the wrong, here. They should have told him.

 _Steve_ should have told him.

God.

Last Tony remembered, Steve was a fugitive, running from the law, wanted in one hundred and sixteen countries– every signatory of the Accords, save one. Tony knew Steve had been hiding in Wakanda, he wouldn’t have been difficult to track even if King T’Challa hadn’t seen fit to keep Tony updated.

And now, what? They were getting married?

Well. Not if Tony had anything to say about it.

“Sir,” JARVIS said worriedly as Tony tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for the elevator to take him to Steve’s floor. Or, well. What _had_ been Steve’s floor, because now apparently it was only a spare area since Steve had moved into the penthouse. Which. You know. Was odd to think about.

Though at least it explained the second toothbrush.

“Sir, perhaps Doctor Banner—"

“No,” Tony said. “JARVIS, I know, okay? I know it’s been– _three goddamn years_ , but I can’t remember them. I can’t just go by what other people saw me do, what people tell me I would have wanted. I need to work this through on my own, okay? Otherwise, I’m just going to end up getting lost.”

JARVIS didn’t reply, but the elevator doors opened smoothly soon after, and Tony knew he had his AI’s approval.

It was almost comical that he walked in on Steve in a similar position to how he’d found Loki that morning, except that JARVIS clearly hadn’t bothered to give a warning this time. Steve was draped over a couch that was slightly too short, his feet hanging off one end and his head hanging upside down over the other. His eyes were closed but he wasn’t asleep, as his brow was furrowed with deep thought.

Tony didn’t bother with a hello. He simply leaned against the back of an armchair and began the conversation.

“So apparently we’re getting married,” he said loudly, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the way that Steve scrambled upright so fast he nearly knocked the lamp off the side table– and _then_ , in his attempt to catch it, he managed to fall to the ground in a mess of flailing limbs.

Steve was bright red as he surfaced, his eyes wide, surprised, and nervous. As he should be, really.

“Tony,” he said, catching his breath. “How are you feeling this morning?”

Tony arched a brow.

Steve winced. “How did you find out?” His voice seemed to be half way between worry and simple curiosity, like he was trying for the latter but couldn’t quite cover up how he was really feeling.

Well, two could play that game.

“Loki mentioned it,” Tony said, shrugging with faux nonchalance.

“You’ve already spoken to Loki?” Steve asked with a frown.

“Yeah, apparently we’re friends,” Tony said. “But you knew that, and don’t change the subject. When were you planning on telling me about being engaged? It takes a while to get a good suit tailored, you know.”

“You already have a suit,” Steve said mildly.

Not knowing how to respond to that, Tony looked away, and crossed the room to stand by the window. The casual way in which Steve had said it hit harder than the words themselves– because if Tony had a suit, what else did he have? A ring? A venue? A _date?_

The absence of the first was easily explained, since neither of them lived lives that allowed for the constant presence of a metal band around one of their fingers. But any of the others were more than possible, and they danced around Tony’s thoughts like a dangerous taunt.

It didn’t feel real.

It felt like something out of someone else’s life.

“I’m not expecting anything.”

Steve’s quiet tone didn’t make Tony jump, but it was a near thing. When he turned, Steve was standing much closer than Tony was expecting him to be, but far enough back that it wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward.

“I’m not expecting that you’re going to love me, or that you will still want to marry me,” Steve continued the moment he knew he had Tony’s attention. “I’m not stupid, I know where we were in July 2016.”

“Wakanda,” Tony said absently.

Steve blinked. “What?”

“Well… you were in Wakanda, in July 2016,” Tony explained.

“No, I know, I just…” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t realise that _you’d_ known that, back then.”

“Oh.” Tony glanced down, his hands tugging at the edges of his long sleeves. “Didn’t we… talk about it?”

“About what happened with the Accords? Not really,” Steve admitted. “When we talked about it, we argued. So, we didn’t talk about it.”

“And Barnes?” Tony asked. It hadn’t been his plan to ask about that, but he knew that if he was going to be able to put up with Steve in the near future, then he needed to know how he’d managed it the first time.

“We don’t have to discuss this now—” Steve said, but Tony shook his head and took a single, determined step closer, right into Steve’s space.

“Yes,” he said, the words he had spoken with Loki ringing in his ears. “We do. Because it’s clear that we reconciled _somehow_ , and while that might be enough for you it certainly isn’t for me. I don’t remember your apology, so if you want me to see you as anything other than an asshole right now—”

“ _My_ apology?” Steve spluttered– but then he shook his head, and held up his hands. “I don’t want to argue with you, Tony, I really don’t. Would it calm you to know that you _did_ accept Bucky? And that he’s not here, anyway.”

Tony grit his teeth, because _no_ , that wasn’t enough– but he wasn’t sure what else he could say without being a repetitive dick. So, he looked to the only person he felt he could _really_ trust.

“J?”

“You agreed to tolerate Sergeant Barnes, Sir,” JARVIS allowed. “Captain Rogers is telling the truth.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Tony,” Steve said. “And I’m sorry that I’ve kept things from you—”

“Again,” Tony muttered, and Steve _flinched._

“I _have_ apologised for that,” Steve said, and then, before Tony could say anything, he held up a hand. “And I know that doesn’t make what I did any better. But Tony, you have forgiven me, I know it, and it’s because I know you don’t remember that I chose to keep my distance. I didn’t want to upset you.”

“But _why?_ ” Tony asked, letting go of his sleeves and spreading his hands. “ _This_ is what I don’t get. Why do you care?”

“Tony, you’re my fiancé,” Steve said softly, his lips twisting in distress. “I just want you to be happy. Tell me what I can do to help, and I’ll do it, _whatever_ you need. And like I said, I’m not expecting you to love me back, not right now. But please, don’t tell me that what I feel is wrong when what we have has been everything to me for years.”

Again, it felt… unreal, listening to this. No one said things like that to _Tony_ , not ever. Tony wasn’t the sort of person who got a happy ending.

He just wasn’t.

Yet he knew this was why Bruce had suggested he stay away from the internet. No doubt if he googled his name, the tabloids would be singing about the star-crossed marriage between the two Avengers who were famous for being at odds.

“I’m not expecting you to love me,” Steve said again, carefully and slowly like he was afraid of scaring Tony away. “But do you think… if we spent some time together, if we were just friends. Maybe something will jog your memory, and bring it all back. Do you think that…” Steve swallowed nervously. “Maybe, you could come to see me as something more?”

It was then that Tony realised that Steve just wasn’t _getting_ it, because Steve was still trying to push, and he didn’t see that he was just making it _worse_. And sure, yeah, the whole fact that it was _Steve_ was a completely different kettle of octopus, and yes, okay, so the Accords thing and the Barnes thing was still an issue but clearly it had been resolved enough for Tony to forgive Steve the first time. He would just have to muddle it all though somehow.

And besides– all of that wasn’t even actually _entirely_ what was bothering him.

You see, Tony had never been a long-term kind of guy. He hated the way it slowed things down, tied him in place and forced him into lining up with another person’s schedule. It wasn’t that he wanted to be selfish, or that he didn’t want to do right by people he cared about– Tony was willing to bend over backward for any of his friends. But being that entwined with someone else meant that sometimes, individuality went by the wayside.

Tony just wanted space to breathe.

A relationship had always seemed like a threat to that no matter which way he looked at it, and the concept of marriage itself was just so foreign that Tony couldn’t imagine ever wanting it. He’d never found someone he felt that he could just _be_ with without needing to either stand his ground or bend the knee– someone who he wanted to be with _enough_ to make it official. Even when he was with Pepper, things had felt like they were perfect the way that they were, and that if either of them delved into anything that resembled a higher level of commitment things would just fall apart. In the end of course, it all collapsed anyway– which was probably just further proof that Tony wasn’t long-term material.

And yet, here the whole world was telling him that he had agreed to marry Steve Rogers.

It was yet another thing in a long line of things that made absolutely no sense, and it had him shaking his head at Steve’s desperate expression.

“I’m sorry,” Tony said. “I can’t. Maybe I did care about you enough to want to settle down, but it must have taken me a long time to get to that point. I can’t even picture myself happy with the thought of commitment, let alone marriage.”

“You were happy with me,” Steve pleaded. “It might be hard to see that now, but I promise. We were both happy.”

But Tony was already shaking his head.

“I don’t ever want to get married, Steve,” he said. “And even though you’re all saying different, I can’t believe that I ever have.”

There was a moment where Tony thought that maybe Steve was going to let it go, step back and just let Tony keep going as if this conversation had never happened. But then Steve’s blue eyes began to blaze with determination.

“What if I could show you?” he asked. “What if there was a way to prove that you were happy with me?”

“I thought you weren’t expecting anything?” Tony asked drily.

“I’m not,” Steve promised. “I just… can you imagine that you loved someone so much that without them, the world feels dull? You’d still have your friends– I still have Bucky, and Sam, and the others. But when that person is with you, it’s like the world is brighter, more focused. Everything matters more because you can share it with _them_ , and you’d do anything just to keep them smiling because their smile is the most perfect thing in existence. So… just imagine you felt that strongly for someone,” Steve finished earnestly, “and tell me– would you give up on a chance to hold on just a little bit longer?”

“I guess not,” Tony sighed, trying not to spend too long on that whole speech because, _holy shit_.

“Besides, don’t you want to know?” Steve tilted his head, watching Tony carefully. “Aren’t you even a little bit _curious?_ ”

And… okay. Damn.

Because as much as the idea of it all sounded incredibly stifling, it was also beginning to scratch at the corners of his mind like an eager parasite. Tony had seen people in happy marriages, and he’d seen the wedded bliss. He’d always just thought that wasn’t for him.

But.

There was that itching _what if–_ what if maybe he _could_ have experienced such a thing, in another life perhaps, in an alternate timeline where Steve had managed to smooth Tony’s jagged edges and self-hatred rather than only aggravating them…

If there was evidence that it was possible for Tony to attain actual _happiness_ , no matter how out of reach and unlikely it was in the current day, then could he really so easily just throw away the chance to witness it?

“All right,” he sighed. “Okay, Steve. Just… show me.”

“JARVIS,” Steve said– no, he pleaded, his eyes to the ceiling.

“Sir,” said JARVIS, no doubt remembering Tony’s words in the elevator. “Are you sure?”

“JARVIS,” Steve said again. “Please.”

There was still a touch of hesitation in the air.

“Yeah, J,” Tony finally answered. “Just do it.”

The television screen on the other side of the room flickered on, and Steve sighed in relief.

It looked like a restaurant security video– not exactly footage that JARVIS _should_ have access to, but if this was the memory that Tony was rapidly coming to suspect that it was, then he wouldn’t put it past himself to have obtained it in a slightly shady manner– or, you know. Maybe he’d just bribed the owners.

Either way, it was a restaurant that Tony recognised, high-end, fancy, and expensive. He spotted their table immediately, a booth to the side that was mostly private but in a clear view from the camera. It was quite clearly the two of them, but Tony had to blink a couple of times to be sure of what he was seeing—

Because, yeah. The Tony on the screen looked _happy_. He was laughing with genuine mirth, his eyes brighter than Tony could ever remember seeing them in the mirror. On-screen Steve was smiling fondly, his hands under the table as he just watched Tony laugh like he was the most interesting and beautiful thing that Steve had ever seen. There was no sound, but when Steve’s lips moved, and on-screen Tony’s expression softened, it wasn’t a giant leap to imagine exactly what was being said.

And then when on-screen Tony looked to Steve and saw that he had pulled a blue velvet box out from under the table, his expression went completely and utterly blank, a mask falling into place. That only lasted for a moment, though, before his eyes lit up and a bright but surprised smile stretched across his lips. Then they were talking again and while Tony still couldn’t see what they were saying, his eyes never shifted from the screen and he watched the way that his counterpart’s eyes slowly widened with surprise and awe, stretching out with both hands. But he didn’t grab the box or the ring– his fingers entangled in Steve’s shirt and dragged him close, arching his back to reach and slamming their lips together.

The two kissed with obvious passion, leaning over the food between them and not even noticing that Tony’s tie had started to trail in the sauces. Their hands were in each other’s hair and their plates were clattering between them on the table as they tried to get even closer. It was clear that Tony was going for something deeper and probably inappropriate for the setting, and Steve was the one to pull back with a bright laugh. On-screen Tony was still grinning as he threw a pile of bills on the table and stood, hurriedly dragging Steve along by his hand through the doors as the other patrons watched them with a mixture of disbelief and delight through the camera apps on their smartphones.

As the screen faded to black, Tony found that he couldn’t look away. The video was replaying in his head over and over, aching with a desire he hadn’t been aware of before. Because that had definitely been a ring, a _proposal_ , and other than the initial reaction, his past self had seemed so very happy about it. There had been only very little hesitation in his movements, and apparently nothing to hold back. But most importantly, he had been able to give affection and _know_ that it would be not only accepted, but returned in kind.

And suddenly, in the face of all that pure joy, the fact that the next step on the path was a _wedding_ seemed almost inconsequential.

 _Almost_.

 “Tony?”

Tony glanced over, pulled from his musings, and somehow, he wasn’t surprised to see that the adoration in Steve’s gaze was exactly the same as it had been on the video.

“That was, uh.” Tony swallowed. “You really _do_ actually care about me, huh?”

“Tony, I love you,” Steve said, his voice soft. “I know you don’t remember that, and that you don’t remember loving me back. But do you think… that there could be a chance?”

“I just can’t feel it, Steve,” Tony said, shaking his head and trying not to let Steve’s rapidly cracking expression deter him. “That person in that video– I know that’s me, but it’s not _me_ , you know?”

It was the same problem as the one he had with Loki– they were unbalanced, on a completely different level. Steve remembered it all but Tony didn’t, and to pretend otherwise was unfair to the both of them.

“I’m not going to lie to you though,” Tony allowed. “That happiness? I can hardly believe it, but that looks real. And I… I think I’d like to see if that’s still possible, but. I just… I don’t think that it _is_ right now. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” Steve said immediately. “This is _not_ your fault, okay? This is why I didn’t want to talk about it, I don’t want you to think that I’m upset with you, because I’m _not_.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed. “This is Doom’s fault. I hope he’s rotting away in whichever hole he’s been thrown into.”

“Doom’s fault,” Steve repeated, his voice absent in a way that left Tony wondering if he had even heard what Tony had said. But then his eyes squeezed shut and his hands clenched into fists. “No, this isn’t it,” he muttered, shaking his head. “There has to be a way. This can’t… there has to be a way to help you.”

“The doctors said it would take time,” Tony reminded him gently. “Well, time or a miracle. So unless you’ve got a magic wand lying around—”

“Loki,” Steve said suddenly, and Tony was worked up enough that he glanced toward the elevator, half expecting the god to be there. But a second later he realised that, right, Steve was clearly meaning to say something about the guy.

So Tony asked, “What about him?”

“He can help you, he has to be able to.” Steve’s voice was desperate at the start of the sentence, but it didn’t take long before it became hopeful. “You said miracle, and, well. The way that he saved you yesterday was the greatest miracle that I’ve ever seen.”

Oh.

_Oh._

Somehow, the idea of relying on magic didn’t rub Tony the wrong way like he expected– maybe because he already knew what it could do, what Loki had already done. Loki wasn’t the monster Tony had thought he was– he was intriguing and interesting and honestly, he was pretty all right to talk to. And if there was a chance that Tony could retrieve his missing memories…

“JARVIS?” Tony asked, knowing that his trusty AI would understand.

They didn’t have to wait long.

“What do you want?” Loki drawled from his spot on the couch, sitting back comfortably as if he had been there all along despite Tony _knowing_ that the couch had been empty three seconds earlier.

“You healed Tony’s injuries,” Steve said immediately, not bothering with pleasantries. “Do you think it would be possible for you to fix his memories?”

Loki didn’t bother with pleasantries either, and his brow furrowed as he turned the question over, glancing from Tony to Steve. It was clear that he was thinking, considering every angle, looking for a way to make the situation turn in his favour, and Tony found the corner of his mouth turning up into the beginnings of a smile. Despite their history and what Loki had once tried to do with his sceptre, Tony found that he really didn’t mind the idea of Loki helping him with his recall issues.

Then Loki’s gaze paused on Tony, his head tilted in an unspoken question. Tony felt something warm in his chest when he realised what the god was waiting for– and it was only when Tony gave a small nod that Loki finally spoke.

“I could,” Loki said, his voice slow and thoughtful. “But it will take time.”

“But you can do it?” Steve asked, and when Loki confirmed it, Steve’s whole body relaxed in a way that Tony hadn’t seen since he’d woken in the hospital. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, _thank you_.”

Tony, though, had caught on to the ‘innocent’ lift at the end of Loki’s sentence.

“How long?” Tony asked curiously.

“I’m sure you can appreciate that the mind is a delicate thing,” Loki said, the caution vanishing to be replaced with a smirk. “I wouldn’t want to damage your pretty head by rushing.”

Despite the risk that implied, Tony couldn’t help the snort that escaped him. Steve, though, was already narrowing his eyes, the tension returning just as quickly as it had bled away.

“You’ve used mind magic before without worry,” he said. “You controlled Clint and dozens of others and hardly broke a sweat, and I’ve seen you make people relive their fears—”

“Control is easy,” Loki snapped. “Forcing someone to see their fears, twisting a treasured memory into poison, ripping and tearing and destroying– all of these things are incredibly simple, as proved by the fact that Ms Maximoff is capable of them without training. But if you want the mind to remain intact during such a delicate process as recovering a memory, then I need time to become acquainted with it.”

“What do you mean, _acquainted?_ ” Tony said suspiciously, and when Loki’s smirk widened, Tony almost might have said that he looked honestly _fond_.

“Do not worry. I will only need to spend time with you, allow my senses to become more familiar with the way your mind works. I do not mean anything nefarious.”

“So… basically, you just want to hang out.” Despite what they were talking about, Tony had to press his lips together to stop himself smiling. It felt… insensitive, somehow, but he couldn’t help it.

“I will be reaching out with my seiðr to ensure that I am familiar enough with the feel of you so that I can later help you retrieve the memories without shattering your mind entirely. But otherwise, yes,” Loki finished, his smirk becoming a little more pronounced. “I wish to ‘hang out’.”

“You’ll do your best to get his memories back?” Steve asked again, staring at Loki like he was a shining beacon in the middle of a storm. And once again, Tony was struck by how much Steve seemed to _care_.

“Yes,” Loki said, those green eyes dancing with something Tony didn’t quite trust, but which made him want to smile regardless. “I promise.”


	5. Longing

Anthony always looked beautiful when he was excited, and he was never more excited than when he was in his workshop.

Loki leaned against one of the benches, smiling fondly as he watched Anthony dance about the room in complete and utter awe, staring at designs for things that were, in his mind, from three years in the future.

“Loki, look!” Anthony exclaimed, gesturing to a hologram displaying what Loki recognised as the Mark L. “It’s made of nanotechnology, this was just a theory when I– oh, look at the propulsion in these specs, holy shit. How fast does this thing _go?”_

Loki tuned out JARVIS’ reply, not caring for the exact numbers and preferring to watch the effect they had on Anthony’s expression, the way that his eyes lit with wonder.

“These nanobots are amazing,” Anthony said, looking to Loki once again. “And I keep it all in the arc reactor?”

The question sounded a little off, but that wasn’t an issue. Loki knew what he was asking.

“You usually wear it on your chest,” Loki explained. “It isn’t embedded, like your old one, you can remove it if you wish– though you rarely do so.”

Anthony glanced down. “I guess it came off for the hospital, huh?” he asked. “Or was it destroyed in the fight?”

It had been almost a week, but Loki still felt a twinge of horror run down his spine at the memory.

“Damaged,” Loki corrected, shaking the feeling away. Anthony was _fine_. “Likely beyond repair, I should think. Doctor Banner has ensured that the remains were brought back for you, and kept away from prying eyes.” He gestured to a box in the corner that Anthony had not yet touched. “But I believe that there is something else you would rather see than the broken piece.”

Loki felt Anthony’s eyes on his back as he crossed the room, moving toward the hidden panels in the far wall. Before he could reach them, though, something grabbed on to his sleeve and gently tugged, and Loki turned with a soft chuckle. 

“Yes, hello,” Loki said, allowing his fingers to trail across the robot’s arm. DUM-E made a noise that Loki had long since come to recognise as a purr, and then U trundled over from his charging port for a pat as well.

“You seem comfortable with them,” Anthony said curiously.  

“They’re interesting,” Loki replied. “They have more personality than most of Asgard combined. And…” He paused, wondering if it was appropriate to say the rest, but– well. It was only Anthony, and Loki had told him before, anyway. “They don’t judge.”

Anthony didn’t say anything else about it, but Loki could feel eyes on him still as he continued past the bots to where he wanted to be. With practiced movements, Loki placed his hand on the concealed panel for JARVIS to scan, and then typed the code Anthony had given him almost a year ago into the pad that subsequently slid toward him. That done, he waited for the hidden door to swing free of the wall and then retrieved his prize.

By the time Loki turned back, Anthony was wearing a pensive expression, his eyes following Loki’s every move without disbelief, but with plenty of surprise. When he reached him, though, Loki simply extended his hand, with the slim, blue, near-triangular device resting on his palm.

But Anthony didn’t take it from him– he kept his gaze on Loki, and tilted his head.

“You can get into my safe,” Anthony stated. “You…” He cleared his throat. “I let you know where I keep my arc reactors.”

“You allowed me access to it in case of emergencies,” Loki explained. “This way, you said, if the reactor was ever damaged in battle and the suit lost power, I could bring you a spare. I am the fastest on the team, after all.” Loki flashed a grin, remembering the way that Anthony had used a casual tone in his explanation that hadn’t quite hidden his nervousness at allowing another person access to his most valued possession. “I haven’t needed to, though.”

“Oh,” said Anthony. He clearly recognised the significance of it just as well as Loki had at the time.

“Here.” Loki pressed the reactor into Anthony’s hand. “It might make you more comfortable to wear it.”

“I’m not worried,” Anthony said, though his fingers curled around the reactor nonetheless.

“I never said that,” Loki replied. “I just know that you prefer to wear it. It’s smarter to always be prepared.”

Anthony still didn’t look convinced, but he was running his fingers over the surface of it in a manner that betrayed his temptation. “I don’t know how to use it.”

“You’re Tony Stark, aren’t you?” Loki said, shrugging. “Work it out.”

The smile that followed was bright enough that Loki couldn’t help but return it, and he watched as Tony lifted his shirt. The glimpse of tan skin set Loki’s every nerve aflame, but he remained stoic as Anthony quickly worked out how to attach the device.

“The nanotechnology has a neurological control interface,” JARVIS said, explaining what Loki could not. “You are entirely in control, Sir. You merely need to tell the nanobots what to do, and they will do it.”

“Okay,” Anthony said determinately. “Okay. I can do this. It’s not much different to the Mark XLVII.”

“Correct, Sir,” JARVIS confirmed. “The nanotechnology is more advanced, but the control interface has only marginally been updated. I believe that you will have very little difficulty with it.”

“Of course not,” Anthony said, catching Loki’s eye with a smug grin. “I’m Tony fucking Stark.”

And indeed, it did not take long for Tony fucking Stark to become familiar with his invention, and in less than hour he was manoeuvring the nanotech almost as easily as he had before his injury.

“It’s like muscle memory,” Anthony said, watching the nanobots flow over his hand with complete and utter amazement. “I _made_ this.”

“Yes,” Loki said with more than just a little fondness. “You did.”

“I’m a genius.”

“Well, I knew that already,” Loki couldn’t resist saying, rolling his eyes. “You tell me often enough that it would be impossible to forget.”

The word was out before Loki realised what he had said, but thankfully, Anthony only laughed.

“Good. Can’t have my minion forgetting how utterly brilliant I am.”

“Excuse me? _Your_ minion?” Loki said dramatically.

“You just admitted that you agreed to fetch things for me,” Anthony grinned. “Hence, minion.”

“As the only ex-villain the room, I believe that if anyone is entitled to minions, it would be me.”

“Nuh-uh. I’ve got DUM-E and U.”

“Do you though?” Loki asked, arching a brow, his lips curling in a smirk. He glanced over to where DUM-E was poking at the box Banner had left, which was getting rather precariously close to the edge of the bench it was sitting on. “DUM-E, come here.”

“No, no, DUM-E,” Anthony cooed, the nanobots retreating to the arc reactor as he spread his arms wide. “Come on, come to daddy.”

“You know that he keeps offering to send you to a community college,” Loki tried. “I would never do that.”

“Yeah, but I bet you also never oil his wheels,” Anthony countered.

DUM-E paused in his approach, as if he were unsure. Loki outstretched an arm invitingly, offering pats, and Anthony crossed his arms sternly.

It was almost comical, the way that DUM-E’s camera flickered between the two of them in obvious indecision. But then, his arm lowered slowly, picking something off the ground—

And—

“Oh no,” said Anthony.

Loki dove to the left just as Anthony ducked right, but neither of them were fast enough to escape DUM-E’s wrathful attempt at neutrality.

—•—

By the time the two of them headed up to the kitchen for some lunch, they were both mostly clean. Loki had vanished the white foam from himself with his seiðr, but had only relented and done the same for Anthony after the mortal had rebelled against Loki’s snarky “sort yourself out” by grabbing hold of the mage and dirtying Loki’s clothes all over again.

Not that he was particularly averse to having Anthony wrap his arms around his waist and plaster himself against Loki’s body, but even Loki’s control had certain limits that he wasn’t inclined to test just yet.

He did, however, leave a small patch of foam in Anthony’s hair out of spite.

They were still laughing about it when they stepped out of the elevator, Anthony all but prancing with his head held high in victory while Loki walked beside him, not bothering to smother his chuckles.

They both stopped though, when they saw the kitchen’s only occupant, and he likewise stopped what he was doing to stare at them, his half-flipped omelette dripping bits of egg down onto the pan.

“Oh,” said Steve. “Tony.”

Anthony froze, and something that looked like it might have been guilt flashed across his face, though Loki couldn’t think why.

“Hey, Steve,” Anthony said, his smile dimming just a little. “Lunch?”

“Yes.” Steve looked down, almost as if he were surprised by the mess dripping from his spatula. He salvaged what he could before looking back up to where Anthony and Loki were still waiting in the doorway. “You too?”

“Yeah,” Anthony said. The conversation was stilted and awkward, and Loki _revelled_ in it. “Sandwich, maybe?”

It took a poke in the side for Loki to realise he was being spoken to, and he nodded in agreement.

“So long as you don’t put those horrible green monstrosities in it again,” he said.

“Hey, be nice to pickles, we like pickles,” Tony complained.

“I don’t.”

“I was using the royal we, asshole.”

They bickered only long enough to decide that _Loki_ would be the one to make the sandwiches, something he grumbled about for the entire length of time it took him to complete the task. Rogers watched every movement from the breakfast bar, sat on a stool beside Anthony with his misshapen but still edible omelette in front of him.

Loki took a seat on Anthony’s other side, sliding him his plate across the counter.

“Really?” Anthony asked, picking up the whole square sandwich with an arched brow.

“If you want it cut into little triangles, you can do it yourself,” Loki replied, taking a bite out of his own food.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, a peaceful quiet that would have been comfortable if not for the presence on the other side of Anthony. And, speaking of—

“What is that?” Rogers asked, and for a moment Loki thought he was talking about the left-over foam– but then he saw that the Captain’s gaze was on Anthony’s chest.

“My suit,” Anthony said, his smile as bright as the tiny speck of yellow mustard in the corner of his mouth. “The whole thing fits into the reactor, and I can control it with the neurological interface. I control it by _thinking,_ Steve!”

Rogers didn’t look impressed– though of course, he already knew all about the Mark L, having been with Tony through several stages of its conception.

“Are you sure you should be wearing that?” Rogers asked. “You’re not used to what it can do. What if something goes wrong?”

Anthony’s face fell, but only a little, and only in a near imperceptible manner. His grin remained in place, but there was a slight dimming of his eyes that made the whole look just a little less bright.

“I’m a fast learner,” he said.

“How did you find it?” Rogers asked.

“Loki found it for me,” Anthony said simply. He looked back down at the remains of his sandwich, and Loki noticed that the hand on his side, the side that Rogers couldn’t see, was clenched in a fist.  

Rogers glanced to Loki, his brows pulling together.

“Why?”

“It’s his, is it not?” Loki replied. “You had no right to keep it from him.”

Loki’s own words rung in his ears.

_No right_.

Norns, Rogers was being an ass, but… what Loki was doing somehow felt so much worse.

“I’m only concerned for his safety,” Rogers countered, glancing to back to Anthony. “ _Your_ safety. Perhaps you should take it off, just to be sure.”

“Actually, no,” Anthony said, looking back up with a frown. “I made this thing. If anyone is deciding whether or not I wear it, it’s going to be me.”

Rogers opened his mouth as if to continue arguing, but a moment later he simply pressed his lips together in a grim line instead.

“All right,” he said, sounding weary. “I’ll leave you two to it, then?”

Anthony offered a tight smile, and Steve seemed to take that as his cue to leave, standing and picking up his finished plate.

“Good luck with the memories. I really do hope that it’s going well.”

And then, after stopping only to place his dirty dishes into the dishwasher, Rogers headed out.

“Well, that was fun,” Anthony said after swallowing his last bite of sandwich. “What do you want to do next, Lokes? Back to the workshop? Or do you want to get out of here for a bit?”

The familiar nickname was enough to pull Loki from his guilt, and instead of answering the question he found himself staring at Anthony in pleasant surprise.

“What?”

“You…” Loki shook his head, a smile working its way into his expression.  Anthony rarely failed to cheer him up, even if he didn’t realise that he was doing it. “Never mind. The workshop sounds lovely.”

Anthony’s smile wasn’t as bright as it had been, but it was bright enough to tempt Loki into returning it. It was the little things like that which had Loki continuing with what he was doing, despite the lingering guilt.

Because during the time they had been spending together, Loki’s affections for Anthony had not diminished at all, and the intense _longing_ had only strengthened. Every day it became harder and harder for Loki to keep everything to himself. Because to Anthony, even their friendship still felt new, and Loki knew he was going to have to keep moving slowly.  But Anthony had already begun to initiate contact himself, such as earlier with the foam, and he’d chosen to hold a conversation with Loki even when Rogers had been right there in the very same room.

The closer they got, the more it hurt when Loki ached to take a next step but knew that he couldn’t. And oh, they were so very close now, and yet Anthony remained just an inch out of Loki’s reach.

But there was still a chance for that to change.

—•—

Days turned into weeks, and Loki spent as much of every one with Anthony as he could.

Unusually, that was easier done than said.

When they had originally told the rest of the team what the plan was to help Anthony with his memories, there had been a bit of a backlash. While mostly supportive, Banner had commented that perhaps waiting and regular visits to a specialist as the doctors at the hospital had suggested was a better idea, and while Barton had mostly moved past what had happened those years ago during Loki’s forced attack on New York, he was still against Loki attempting any mind magic.

It had just taken Rogers’ support and Anthony’s surprisingly unwavering trust in Loki, however, and they had all backed down.

But other than that, there was no trouble in them simply ‘hanging out’, as Anthony had said back at the beginning. Originally, Ms Potts had suggested that Anthony read up on his company so that he could sit in on meetings, but when the plan had been explained to her, she had kissed Anthony on the cheek and told him that he could have as long as he needed to recover.

There were still a few taxes on their time, of course. Anthony made some public appearances to assure the people of Midgard and, more importantly, Stark Industries’ shareholders that he was alive and well, and skirted the edge of discussing his memory with well-practiced skill that Loki found was a joy to watch. Watching Anthony laugh and joke and promise the world that the wedding wasn’t being called off _quite yet,_ however, was difficult– but it helped that it was always to Loki that Anthony came afterward. Not to Rogers, but to _Loki_ , his face alight with distaste for the reporters and yet enjoyment of succeeding in talking them in circles yet again. 

That was always the way with Anthony, though. He was always ready to discuss the day’s events and never seemed to tire of the mage’s company.

They hardly even headed to the common floor any more, preferring to spend their time in Anthony’s workshop or in the privacy of the penthouse rather than amongst the mad gatherings of the Avengers’ group activities. Oh, they joined them for meals and for some of the movie nights, always sitting beside each other on the couch and – Loki liked to think, anyway – avoiding Rogers’ lingering glances as they praised or criticised whatever film had been chosen in soft undertones and between mouthfuls of popcorn.

It was clear that Rogers was beginning to grow restless with the amount of time they were spending together, but there was very little he could do. Loki’s excuse had been more than a little misleading, but they all believed it– and Rogers could not speak out without seeming to place his jealousy of their newfound closeness above his desire for Anthony to regain his memories.

They were first called to Assemble three weeks after Anthony’s injury, and since there was nothing truly _wrong_ with Anthony, he had joined them just as always. Loki would be lying if he said that his heart wasn’t in his throat the entire time, the memory of Anthony’s blood coating his fingers dancing through his mind as he watched that red and gold armour streak through the sky. But they had all come through the fight against the Wrecking Crew with hardly a scratch, and the fear was proven unnecessary. There were more reporters afterward, and arrests, and then they went back to the Tower to celebrate with hot chocolate and a raucous game of charades.

Through it all Tony stayed by Loki’s side, choosing him for companionship above all of the others.  

And oh, the ache in Loki’s chest was painfully familiar, but now it was accompanied by the frequent brush of Anthony’s skin against his own, setting those nerves aflame and sending shivers down every inch of Loki’s body.

It was something Loki had learned about Anthony very early on. He didn’t like to be touched, not at all– at least until he decided that he liked you. And from then on, there would be a brush on the arm, a touch to the waist, a head leaning on a shoulder.

Loki had not only grown used to it, but had come to treasure that simple, causal intimacy, even if it had been only something shared between friends. But these days, Anthony was touching Loki more than he ever had before, and it was a sweet, sweet torture that was near impossible to endure. He managed, though, because he had to, and because the promise of something so much _better_ was dangling just before him—

But then, one day, Anthony asked if Loki could help him hone his fighting skills.

“I’ve never tried my tech against the god of chaos himself,” Anthony had said, sprawled over a couch with his head in Loki’s lap and his feet dangling off the other end. “Come on, no holds barred. I bet I’ll give you a better fight than you’ve had in ages.”

Loki’s fingers had been trailing through Anthony’s soft hair, but they paused at the realisation of what Anthony was asking.

“Anthony, listen to yourself. I am a _god_ ,” Loki said, and for once those words actually weren’t said for the sake of his arrogance. “I’m not saying no, but I do not wish to hurt you.”

“Oh, you won’t,” Tony said, his eyes shining with anticipation. “Don’t worry.”

As it turned out, Anthony was right– and he really was a sight to behold. He had truly mastered his suit, flipping in circles around Loki in the air and using the nanotechnology in ways that Loki had never anticipated. He was impossible to pin down even when Loki began using his seiðr to skywalk across the Tower’s gym– Anthony’s sensors could pick him up, and Anthony was always two steps ahead.

And maybe Loki still could have won, if he’d pulled out all the stops. But Anthony’s laugh was more distracting than a missile shot at the other end of the gym ever could be, and their fight ended with Loki pinned to the ground.

Anthony laughed, lying over Loki with his hands braced against the ground either side of Loki’s head, his helmet retracted and their faces so, so close together. He looked almost ethereal, with his hair sticking up madly and a touch of frenzied insanity in his overly bright eyes.

“I win,” Anthony said, leaning down and smirking dangerously.

“Oh?” Loki asked. He adjusted his grip and pressed his blade harder against Anthony’s waist, to where an empty patch had been left to harvest nanobots for one of his more flashy tricks early in the fight. The dagger would easily be able to slice through the mortal’s spleen if Loki pushed just a _little bit_ harder, but Anthony merely let out a short laugh of disbelief.

Once again, his trust in Loki after such a short time was astounding.

“A tie, then,” he said.

Loki tilted up his chin in defiance, his own grin firmly in place. “If you say so.”

He waited for Anthony to move, to roll away from Loki and offer a hand to help him up. But Anthony remained in place, staring down at Loki with an odd look in his eye as his smirk became laden with want. Loki parted his lips to ask if something was wrong, but as he did so Anthony swallowed, and his gaze flicked down to—

_Oh_.

Loki licked his lips as heat and anticipation washed through him, years of pent up emotion just bursting at the seams. His spine arched just enough to press their bodies even closer together, and Anthony actually _groaned_ at the movement, those brown eyes falling closed. The mortal lowered his weight further as Loki threw his dagger away carelessly, hands coming to rest at Anthony’s sides as the metal of the suit slid away, following its creator’s desire and leaving nothing but thin material and Loki’s leather armour between them.

Their lips were only a hairsbreadth apart, and Loki’s heart was hammering in his chest, so loud it was deafening. The world seemed to slow, and every burning inch of Loki’s body was shaking, _aching—_

“I have to go,” Anthony said, standing in one fluid movement and leaving Loki feeling light and cold.

“Wait,” Loki said, getting up as quickly as his jellied muscles would manage. “Anthony, wait, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“No,” Anthony said firmly, shaking his head even as he continued to back away. “You’re fine, I promise. I’m not mad at you. I’ll… I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Anthony didn’t wait for an answer as he turned and fled for the door—

And this time, Loki let him go without a word.

—•—

By the time Thor managed to track him down, Loki had been sitting on the roof of the Tower for almost three hours. His feet were hanging off the side and his hands were clasped together, pressed hard into his thighs as he leaned out over the edge. Avengers Tower was far from the tallest building in the city but it was high enough that Loki could see the sprawling mortal mess, the lights that moved far too slowly along the roads and the specks that were people rushing across the sidewalks despite the late hour.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to drown out his thoughts, nor block the image of Anthony’s horrified expression from his thoughts. And the more he thought on it, the more Loki hurt.

After all, what had happened was very, very clear—

Anthony had seen Loki’s intent in his expression, and he hadn’t liked it.

_I’m not mad at you_.

No, he wouldn’t be, would he? Anthony had a kind heart, far too kind for someone who had been through all that he had. He never would blame another person for his feelings, but that would not stop him from being repulsed by the thought of being with Loki. Likely, he wanted some space, hoping that Loki’s feelings would peter out and they could remain friends.

But, no, that wasn’t quite right, was it? Because _Anthony_ had been the one to lean down. He had been drawn in just as much as Loki, which meant…

That he had pulled away because of Rogers.

At first, the realisation had been a relief, because that meant that Anthony really _had_ wanted it, he wasn’t repulsed by Loki himself, as Loki had first thought. But after a few more minutes of deliberation the fact that, despite all the time they had spent together, Anthony still considered going back to Rogers sent a lance of pure agony shattering through Loki’s entire body, and he shuddered hard enough that the metal of his armour rattled against the concrete of the rooftop.

He thought he had an opportunity to compete with Rogers only because Anthony had disliked him at the start. But if Anthony now had the idea of Rogers in his head, Loki knew that his own chances had been whittled down to barely nothing.

And so it was another type of pain that Loki was left with, and he continued to stare down at the writhing mess of humans below, wishing that there was some kind of answer.

The hustle and bustle was far enough down that Loki heard Thor’s footsteps before he saw his brother himself. He heard when Thor’s steps quickened, no doubt when he spotted Loki’s hiding place—

And he heard when Thor stopped dead.

“What do you want?”

“Loki,” Thor said, his voice slow and cautious. “Are you well?”

For a moment, Loki considered snapping back a reply– because _no_ , he wasn’t well at all, but what business of that was Thor’s? But then he realised exactly how this might look to his brother– his brother, who knew the things Loki had been dealing with, and who had once witnessed Loki hanging from a much higher height than this.

“Oh, don’t be so ridiculous,” Loki muttered, rolling his eyes and pulling his feet back onto the roof. Since his peaceful spot had already been disrupted, he decided to rise all the way to standing, and stepped down and away from the edge of the roof to put Thor more at ease.

Thor relaxed immediately, but not quite as much as Loki would have liked.

“My question stands,” Thor said, taking a step closer so that they were a comfortable distance apart for civilised conversation. “How do you fare, Loki?”

“The fact that you are here means that you already know the answer to that question,” Loki muttered.

Thor sat down on the short barrier at the edge of the roof – his back to the drop, though, and his feet safely on the ground – and then patted the spot beside him.

Loki wanted nothing _less_ than he wanted to engage in this conversation, but somehow, he found himself sitting down anyway.

“Stark dined with us tonight,” Thor said. “And you were not there. I have not seen the two of you apart in weeks. Was there an argument?”

“No,” Loki said.

Thor waited for a few moments, but when it became clear that he wouldn’t get a longer answer, he did what Thor did best and hit straight for the weak spot as hard as he could.

“Have you made any progress with your attempts to court him?”

“No,” Loki repeated, harsher this time.

“And why not?”

“Surely you’re not encouraging me?” Loki asked curiously. “Anthony is still engaged to Captain Rogers. His loss of memory does not change that—”

“If that is the case, brother,” Thor cut in, “then why are you still pretending that you can’t give those memories back?”

Loki glanced up sharply, staring at Thor in a sudden burst of horror.

“Do not worry, I shan’t tell anyone,” Thor said. “I will not begrudge you your happiness, if it is within your grasp.”

“You… don’t think that what I’m doing is wrong?” Loki asked, surprised.

“Oh no, it’s definitely wrong,” Thor said brightly. “You’re withholding his memories from him, and he’s going to have every right to be very angry when he realises.”

“Thank you,” Loki muttered drily, not entirely sure why he had expected anything different.

“It would probably be a good idea to make sure Banner is out of the Tower when you tell Stark about it,” Thor continued. “You don’t want to get smashed. Again.”

Loki grit his teeth. “Thor…”

“Of course, Banner will be nothing to worry about compared to what Ms Potts will do to you when she finds out—"

“Thor, I thought you wanted to help,” Loki snapped. “Either shut up or go and find someone else to bother, because if you continue, I just might gut you.”

“Ah, _there_ he is,” Thor said. “My brother, Asgard’s most skilled trickster. Always ready for a fight.”

“Don’t forget it,” Loki muttered.

“Never,” Thor continued. “And don’t you let that fight go out of you. Stop allowing Rogers to keep you on the back foot. Strike back, and take Stark as your own.”

Loki blinked. That certainly hadn’t been what he’d expected, not at all. He knew that Thor had been willing to comfort him regarding his unrequited affections, but he hadn’t counted on outright support. This went beyond simple commiseration. It was kind advice, well meant, and quite honestly it probably headed down the right track. It was so very Thor to show his approval in such a way, of course– but Loki had certainly not expected that Thor would choose to support him over his shield brother.

“Thank you,” Loki said, far more sincerely than he had the last time.

Thor smiled softly. “You are welcome. Just… I beseech you, brother. Please, be careful. There are more hearts at stake here than just your own– Tony Stark’s included.”

Loki glanced away, his breath gushing out of him in a long sigh.

Thor spoke the truth, but his warning wasn’t necessary. Loki knew the high price of what he was doing– but Thor had also been right about something else.

Because Loki knew exactly what he wanted, and he wasn’t going to let this second chance go without putting up one hell of a fight.


	6. Temptation

There has to be a special place in hell for people who consider hurting someone in the way that Tony was desperately wishing he could. It was immoral, it was destructive, and it was just plain _wrong_. Tony knew that, and yet…

He couldn’t help it.

_Fuck._

Since Tony had woken in his hospital bed on September 3rd, 2019, Steve had been nothing but kind to him. Oh sure, there had been the initial shitty thing with the withholding of information about their engagement until Loki had let it slip, and then there had been the conversation where Steve had all but confessed to how he hadn’t ever even apologised for the mess with the Accords– but even Loki had admitted that they’d reconciled _somehow_ , so maybe all that wasn’t as bad as Tony’s mind was making it out to be. And yeah, so Steve hadn’t wanted Tony to wear the arc reactor and use the suit, but Tony himself had been fairly nervous about that until Loki had utilised common sense and pointed out that since Tony had been the one to make the suit in the first place, he was more qualified than any of them when it came to operating Iron Man.

Loki, Loki, Loki.

Ha.

It was funny, was it? How even now, when his mind was tumultuous mess as he tried to focus on how he felt about Steve, his thoughts still just kept going back to _Loki_.

Tony wasn’t even sure how it had happened. He’d been wary around Loki at first, because no matter how intrigued he was he couldn’t just ignore what the god had done in the past. But Tony’s wariness hadn’t lasted half so long as he’d liked.

Loki was… well, he was fucking gorgeous, wasn’t he? And as if that wasn’t enough to catch Tony’s attention, he was also intelligent, witty, interesting, and seemed to actually listen to Tony when he was speaking, which was a rare skill that very few seemed to possess.

So, you know– the attraction had been there from the very beginning, but the ability to see past mere _attraction_ was something Tony had in spades. But the feelings that had developed afterward, creeping up on him slow enough that he didn’t even realise they were there until he’d already fallen far too hard to be capable of pulling himself back onto his feet—

Well now, they were _far_ more difficult to deny, and nearly impossible to try and fight.

Intellectually, Tony knew he was engaged to Steve. He _knew_ that, and he also knew that the right thing to do was to regain his memories– hell, he’d already been actively trying to do that. Wasn’t that how the whole situation with Loki had started in the first place?

So, it was simple. He was engaged to Steve, and he would likely still want to marry the guy when his memories came back– and that should be that.

…Shouldn’t it?

But when Loki’s green eyes flashed with that dangerous gleam, when his lips tilted up in a smirk at one of Tony’s jokes, when he brushed his fingers across Tony’s skin, when he kept up with Tony’s conversations and seemed honestly _interested_ in what Tony was talking about, and when he looked at Tony like he was the most important person in the world…

Well. In those moments, it was hard to remember that he was supposed to be engaged to Steve.

Because yes, _intellectually_ , Tony knew that was the truth. He’d had it confirmed from everyone, and while he still refused to watch any more footage that JARVIS had stored away, that one video had been more than enough evidence to prove Tony’s own past feelings on the matter. By all accounts, it’s a simple statement of fact—

Tony Stark is in love with Steve Rogers.

Yeah, that was it. The truth, a fact– just another _statement_ that people had thrown down at his feet rather than something that he had fallen into properly, naturally, utterly, and _wholly_ , because—

Everyone was telling him one thing, but Tony was feeling another.

And _yes_ , he knew it was fucking wrong. But Tony had started to _feel_ for Loki, a gradual descent into something he couldn’t have stopped even if he’d wanted to. He’d promised to hold it in though, because Steve was good person and he deserved better than what Tony currently had to offer.

Yet he couldn’t hold back entirely, because Loki drew him closer with every passing day. So he allowed himself a few indulgences, little titbits of _Loki_ that left him feeling giddy, but that would only last until he regained his memories, anyway. Talking, laughing, cuddling on the couch– friends did all that, right? That could be considered normal, and besides. 

Tony had it totally and entirely under control—

And then, Tony had gone and nearly _kissed_ the guy.

The problem wasn’t that Loki hadn’t wanted it, because, _god_. Just the memory of Loki arching up against him was enough to send a shiver of desire surging across every nerve, and Tony’s hands had been shaking with it as he’d all but fled the gym.

And _oh_ , but walking away while Loki had been looking at him like _that_ – as if Tony had taken his heart from his chest and stomped all over it – had been almost impossible. Loki had honestly looked like he would shatter if Tony left, and then Tony had gone and left anyway.

Loki was strong, Tony knew that. But he’d also come to suspect that Loki had been hiding something powerful away for a very long time, and that made him want to draw Loki into his arms and promise to never let go just as much as it made him want to punch his past self in the face. And even without the whole Steve issue, just that in itself was terrifying– because if Tony had begun to feel those sorts of things, then…

Then he’d just be delving back into the realm of his commitment issues, wouldn’t he?

A cold shower helped with one of his problems and gave him time to try and sort his thoughts, though it wasn’t enough to ease his restless mind entirely. He went to dinner half hoping that Loki would be there so that they could talk, because maybe that would fix things– but he wasn’t, and the confused stares the others shot him did absolutely _nothing_ to help, and nor did the sore back he ended up with when he fell asleep on the fucking couch. But the sleep achieved what everything else had not, and by the time he’d had his morning coffee, he’d at least managed to narrow the issue down to something more manageable.

After all, the crux of the problem was simple, even if the solution was not.

Tony knew he used to want Steve.

But right now, in that very moment, it was _Loki_ who set his heart aflutter and his skin aflame.

So the only question was– could he be certain of who he wanted more, if he didn’t have the memories to compare?

He ran a hand through his wet hair as the now very familiar flash of frustration ran through him, and then he threw himself back down on his couch.

Tony needed a second opinion– probably from an actual human being this time, because as great as JARVIS was, he hardly knew more about how to deal with people problems than Tony did himself.

“JARVIS?” Tony asked. “Call Rhodey for me, will you?”

“Of course, Sir.”

JARVIS pulled up a holographic screen, and Tony started speaking without waiting for an answer.

“Have you ever woken up three years in the future, found out you’re engaged to someone who’s meant to hate you and then fallen for the guy who’s supposed to be getting your memories back instead?”

There was a long moment before the person on the other end began to speak.

“I think I might have seen that movie once. I’m sorry, _who_ is this?”

“ _Rhodey,_ ” Tony whined. “I need help!”

“Yeah, sure sounds like it,” Rhodey said. “Hang on, go back a step– _who_ have you fallen in love with?”

“I didn’t say _that—_ ”

“Yes, you did. Now come on, details. I think I deserve it, after being in the dark for so long.”

“They told me you knew about—”

“Tony, I had to hear that you nearly died from Pepper, who apparently heard from Steve. Are you talking to anyone these days?”

“I’m talking to Loki,” Tony said, his voice completely and absolutely _entirely_ free of petulance.

A sigh. “Of course you are.”

Tony narrowed his eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I just… Don’t worry, Pepper told me what Loki’s trying to do. But Tones, are you all right? Because if you’re ever not, you know you can always call me for help—”

“I didn’t know if you’d want me to,” Tony muttered. “Now that apparently I’m all buddy-buddy with the guy who is pretty much the reason why you fell out of the sky.”

“Whoa,” Rhodey said. “Okay. So, this is interesting.”

Despite knowing that Rhodey couldn’t see it, Tony narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“Well… okay, look. I’m not trying to make you upset, but I’m just going to lay it out for you, all right?”

“All right,” Tony said, his frown only deepening. Since when had Rhodey cared whether the truth would make Tony upset?

“After you two got together _properly_ , you wouldn’t hear a word against him. You’ve always blamed my fall on yourself, which is entirely ridiculous, just so you know,” Rhodey said, the last part slipping into his _you’re an idiot, Tony, stop hating yourself_ tone of voice that he’d perfected back in MIT. “Hearing you claim that it was his fault– which it also wasn’t _entirely_ , I know, but. Well, it’s just nice to hear you admit that he had some culpability in the whole thing.”

“Of course he did,” Tony grumbled. “Don’t you remember what he did to me in Siberia?”

“Of course I do,” Rhodey echoed. “But sometimes, I admit I was worried that _you_ had forgotten.”

It took Tony a moment to realise what Rhodey meant, because he was just so _used_ to being reminded that he couldn’t remember everything he should. But then the words connected to the context and Tony shook his head, because sure, there was a slim chance that he might have _forgiven,_ but…

He could still see the arc of Steve’s shield, could hear the solid _crunch_ it made as crushed against the reactor. He could feel the snap of his ribs and the searing pain not offset in the slightest by the biting, _aching_ cold, and he could still smell the scent of sweat and blood as Steve leaned over him with nothing but rage and hate in his eyes.

No.

It wasn’t something that he could _ever_ forget.

“Everyone is just telling me that we ‘reacquainted,” Tony muttered. “I know what that means, I’m not stupid. But there had to have been more than that, because otherwise—”

He cut himself off, shaking his head, but the end of the sentence didn’t go away.

_Because otherwise, how could he have seen past it and chosen Steve, when Loki was right there?_

“Tony?” Rhodey asked, probably concerned by his sudden silence. “Are you all right?”

“No,” Tony replied. “It’s like I said. I need help. I’ve got myself all wrapped up in a circle and I… I don’t know what to do.”

“Maybe if you’d called me earlier, we could have worked this out before it got this bad,” Rhodey teased.

Tony couldn’t help the laugh, though it was only short. “You know, you didn’t call me, either.”

“Steve asked me not to overwhelm you,” Rhodey said, and Tony could practically hear the eyeroll. “I wasn’t expecting you to stay quiet on me, though.”

“I’ve been dealing with a lot,” Tony muttered.

“Yeah,” Rhodey sighed again, and all of a sudden, he sounded so very tired. “Yeah, I can imagine.”

There was a moment of silence, where Tony could just hear Rhodey’s slow breathing. Then there was a shift of fabric, and Rhodey spoke again.

“I’m sorry, Tones,” Rhodey said. “You called me to ask for help, and all I’ve done is jump down your throat. How about we just start again, huh?”

Tony smiled. “Yeah, okay,” he said. “Hello honey bear, I’ve just been in an accident and lost three years of my memory. How’s things with you?”

“Okay, I suppose,” Rhodey replied. “I can’t really talk about it, you know how it is.”

“You’re back in action,” Tony realised, delighted. “JARVIS told me you’d recovered, but that’s… Rhodey, that’s amazing.”

“I know,” Rhodey replied, and Tony was glad to hear the smile back in his voice. “Those braces you designed are amazing. But it’s not me we’re here to talk about.” There was another shift, and Tony got the impression that Rhodey was settling in. “Okay. Lay it on me.”

“Right,” said Tony, taking the permission to rant. “So. You know I’m engaged to Steve, right? But it’s only been a couple months for me since he left me for dead, and yeah, he’s been kind and he’s not being pushy or anything but I just can’t see him that way, and surely he won’t be surprised when I tell him about everything because he’s the one who had the idea in the first place– well, kind of, I mean he was the one who got Loki involved but I’m sure he didn’t exactly plan on _this_ happening—”

“Whoa, whoa,” said Rhodey. “Okay, calm down. What has Steve done now, exactly? And keep it simple.”

“Well, he told me that we’re engaged but only after I confronted him about it. Then he asked Loki to try and get my memories back so we’ll return to being a lovey-dovey couple,” Tony said, trying to keep the annoyance at bay. After all, Steve was within his rights. “He wants to fix me, to make me go back to the way I was before.”

“Did he seriously say that?” Rhodey asked, appalled. “Did he give you a choice at all?”

“Of course he did, though it’s not like it was necessary, anyway,” Tony muttered.  

“It’s always necessary Tony, don’t hit me with that shit,” Rhodey said. “But tell me straight. Did he or did he not _give you a choice_ regarding your memories and your engagement?”

“Do I really get one, though?” Tony asked. “I mean. I _want_ my memories back, that’s three years of my life. But when I get them, I’ll be in love with him, right? That what Steve said, and he showed me that video of when he proposed. So. When I remember, we’ll still be engaged… right?”

There was a pause. A _long_ pause. And Tony was about to ask if Rhodey had fallen asleep or something like Bruce had that one time when—

“Fucking _Rogers_ ,” Rhodey snarled.

“Uh, Rhodey—”

“ _No_ , Tony,” Rhodey snapped. There was a sound on the other side of the line, like maybe Rhodey was adjusting his grip on the phone, and Tony could picture the way he was running his hand over his head in frustration. “Okay, look, I’m going to be brutally honest for the first time since you told me you were dating Steve, and I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

“Ookay,” Tony said.

“You did love him,” Rhodey started. “But you weren’t happy, not as much as you _should_ have been. You’d say things about how Steve didn’t want you down in the workshop for hours at a time, or how you couldn’t spend time with Loki because Steve would rather you attended team game night. I’m not going to deny that he can be good to you– but he doesn’t get _you_. He’s trying to turn you into who he thinks you should be, and you were letting him, because you thought you loved him and you didn’t want to do anything that might push him away.”

“That doesn’t sound like me,” Tony pointed out.

“And the fact that you’re saying that now, with a clear view of it all, just proves to me that I’m right about all this. You weren’t happy, Tones, not really. You were in love with the idea of being in love, rather than Steve himself. And that’s why it seemed so strange to you when you woke up– because he’s _not_ your type, not really, and especially not after what he did. A few weeks of meaningless sex based on anger and then a confession that he actually _cared_ was enough to draw you in until you got addicted to how he took away your loneliness, but without all that you can see that he doesn’t deserve you.”

Tony flinched. He’d known, of course, but to hear it said– to have it pointed out so easily, confirmation that he really had been _so desperate_ for affection that he’d taken it wherever it had come just hit him a little too hard.

And besides—

“I’m the one that doesn’t deserve—”

“But what really interests me about all this, is that you probably wouldn’t have even cared,” Rhodey said, straight over the top of Tony’s attempt to speak. “I know you. You would have ignored it, ignored Steve, just hidden away in your workshop until your memories came back so you didn’t need to deal with it. Except now there’s a spanner in the works, right? You said you’ve gone and fallen in love with someone else, and you’re panicking.”

“I didn’t say _love_ ,” Tony said again– and again, Rhodey ignored him.

“It’s Loki, isn’t it?”

Tony didn’t bother denying it.

“Yeah, I thought so,” Rhodey said. “The guy’s been all over you since you first looked in his direction.”

“I know,” Tony sighed.

“Do you? I mean sure, you flirted with him before but no more than you flirted with everyone else. I know Steve wondered sometimes– hell, _I_ wondered, but I know you. You’re loyal to the core, and you’d never have done anything to hurt Steve. Not at that point, anyway.”

“But I hurt Loki in the process,” Tony replied. “And now…”

“Tones…”

“I just… I get what you’re saying, I do,” Tony said. “But it’s still… it’s still just another person talking at me. And I know that you’ve got my best interests at heart, and I’ve _seen_ all the things you’ve said Steve does, but… I agreed to marry him, Rhodey. That has to mean something, right? But…”

“But you’re in love with Loki,” Rhodey said again.

And this time, Tony couldn’t bring himself to deny it.

“I don’t know what to do,” he said, a touch of desperation in his tone.

“I can’t tell you what to do, you have to know that. I just… I wish I could help you properly.” Rhodey sighed, and Tony thought he could hear the sound of something crunching.

“You _are_ helping,” Tony insisted.

“I just want you to be happy,” Rhodey said. “Okay? Promise me you’ll do what makes _you_ happy… and, maybe talk to Pepper. You need a friend who’s there with you.”

“I’m—”

“And don’t you dare tell me that you’re fine, after all that,” Rhodey said. “Jesus.”

“All right,” Tony said, starting to smile in spite of himself. “Thanks, platypus. You’re a good friend.”

“Yeah, I know. Now go find Pepper, I’m going to tell her you’re coming. And hey, promise me you’ll call if anything else goes south, okay? I’m going to put in for some leave, I’ll be back there when I can.”

“Can you do that?”

“Sure, I’ll tell them it’s a family emergency. Just try to keep out of trouble in the meantime, will you?”

Tony smiled properly, and despite his attempt at humour, his reply came out a little watery.

“No promises there. Trouble seems to find me incredibly attractive.”

“Unfortunately,” Rhodey sighed fondly.

When a _beep_ indicated the end of the call, Tony found that even though Rhodey hadn’t fixed everything, he had definitely made him feel a whole lot better.

—•—

Finding Pepper was easy.

Unfortunately, that seemed to be a bit of an unexpected problem, since there were about fifteen other people in her office when Tony got there. They were board members, mostly, with a couple people from R&D. It looked like they were arguing or pitching a new product or something. Tony mostly tuned it out, and decided to wait by the door– but, in typical fashion, he was spotted almost immediately.

He had _not_ thought this through.

“Mr Stark!” One of them gasped, and Tony only just managed to place the guy as an app developer when a board member shoved the kid out of the way.

“Mr Stark, it is so good to see you well—”

“Mr Stark, have you had time to work on the new line of prosthetics you promised—”

“You need to come back, at least show the shareholders that you’re in a good health—”

“Okay,” Pepper said loudly, catching everyone’s attention. “As you can see, Mr Stark has an appointment with me right now, and I would appreciate it if you could give us a little privacy.”

Mr Stark knew he had no such thing, and he was so very grateful when Pepper’s stern words and even sterner glare were successful at removing the writhing mass of men and women from the room.

“Thanks for the rescue,” Tony said the moment the door had clicked shut behind the last one.

“You can thank me by telling me why I received a worried text from Rhodey five minutes ago,” Pepper said. She stood fluidly and moved from her desk to the comfortable couch in the corner of the office, patting the space beside her.

“I spoke to him earlier,” Tony said, taking the offered seat.

“Oh?” Pepper asked.

“He told me that I wasn’t happy with Steve,” Tony said– and then, curiously, he added, “And he hinted heavily that I should be with Loki instead.”

He waited for her disapproval, for her argument, for her to point out that Steve Rogers was a respectable, kind man while Loki was– well, _Loki_. But even without any warning that this would be what Tony wanted to talk about, she didn’t even look shocked.

“Good,” Pepper said, and when Tony looked up at her with surprise, she continued. “Steve loves you, but you need someone who understands you, Tony, and who can give you what you need. And Steve… just isn’t that person.” Then her expression hardened. “And he certainly does not deserve you after that mess he made in Germany, and then what he did to you in Siberia.”

“Wow,” Tony said, forcing his words past the heavy lump that had formed in his throat. “Are you sure you and Rhodey didn’t have a longer conversation than just a simple text? Because you’ve pretty much just—”

“You didn’t come here to talk to me about Rhodey,” Pepper interrupted. “Now, come on. What’s happening between you and Loki?” She asked softly, like she really wanted to know– like she cared. And that was all it took for everything to just begin spilling out of him in one big bleh, words losing their emotion and becoming empty and bland as he tried to explain the mess that he’d fallen into over the span of only a few weeks.

At some point he came to lean against her side, his eyes falling closed as the words continued to fall in a detached spew of too-short sentences and long-winded explanations. But still, she listened.

“Oh, Tony,” Pepper said as he finished, the words cutting off in a sudden—

“—and that’s it, I guess.”

She threaded her fingers through his hair and held him close, making comforting sounds that would have felt condescending coming from anyone else, but Pepper was Pepper and she knew exactly what Tony needed. She didn’t try to say anything comforting– she just held him, and waited for him to realign all of his faculties and to be ready to have a proper discussion.

It was only when he pulled himself back upright that she spoke again.

“Tony,” she said. “Most of what you’ve said comes down not to how you’re feeling, but how everyone says that you should feel, is that right?”

Tony nodded once, a single, almost sideways jerk of his head that betrayed his lingering discomfort.

“All right.” She paused a moment, but her next words were determined. “Then I don’t want you to worry about what other people are going to think. I just want you to think about _you_ , okay? And then I want you to tell me _why_ you’re struggling between Steve and Loki.”

_Because everyone says we’re engaged_ was sitting on the tip of his tongue, but he stopped it before it was said. Because that was what _everyone said_ , and that wasn’t what Pepper had asked.

It took a few moments before he thought he had a better answer.

“I’ve only known Loki for a few weeks,” Tony said, his voice quiet. “I’ve known Steve for years.”

Pepper nodded, listening intently.

“Steve has… we used to be friends. We argued a lot, we clashed, but I would have fought to the death for him and I’m pretty sure he would have done the same. Well,” Tony scoffed.   
“At least until Barnes came into the picture.”

Barnes, who– god, where _was_ Barnes? Surely Steve hadn’t agreed to leave him behind after the whole fiasco, and Tony knew T’Challa had been fairly sure his sister could help the guy get past the horrors HYDRA had instilled in him. The obvious explanation was that they had all agreed to keep Barnes out of the way until Tony could remember whatever reconciliation (or, more likely, cease-fire) he had managed to reach with his parents’ killer.

For that matter, where were the rest of the rogues? Wilson and Barton and– and bloody _Maximoff—_

“Okay,” Pepper said, cutting off his line of thought. “Why does it matter how long you’ve known them?”

“It… doesn’t, really,” Tony said, frowning. “But Steve _was_ my friend, for years.”

“And Loki is your friend now,” Pepper said, smiling softly. “Doesn’t that put them on even footing?”

Again, Tony had an answer ready, but again it died on his tongue– because to say that Steve couldn’t be on the same level as the person who’d once been their enemy wasn’t fair to Loki at all, and he hated himself for even thinking it. The attack on New York really had been atoned for, and he knew that Loki regretted doing it. He knew that Loki had changed, was a far better person, had committed himself to the Avengers in the years that he had been on the team.

Pepper was right. They were, at the very least, on even footing, and…

Every argument he could make for Steve fell either short on the basis of it resting on other people’s opinions rather than his own, or… it had to do with that ever-present problem.

“If I go off only what I know from these past weeks, then there’s no question,” Tony admitted with a sigh. “I know who I want. But I can’t, Pep, because what if when I get my memories back, I fall in love with Steve all over again?”

“I can’t tell you that won’t happen, Tony,” Pepper said, her words once again echoing what Rhodey had said before. “Only you can know that.”

“But I _can’t_ ,” Tony stressed. “And besides. Whether or not I get my memories back, if I decide to be with Loki now, then either way someone gets hurt. Whether it’s Steve when he finds out or Loki when it ends.”

Thinking of the two options, Tony knew, of course, which he would prefer. It sounded horrible and awful and cruel, but Tony knew he wouldn’t mind breaking Steve’s heart if it meant that he could keep Loki– but what if it went the other way? What if he got his memory back, and he did love Steve after all? He couldn’t cope with the thought of hurting Loki like that.

But maybe… his preference for hurting Steve over causing Loki any kind of pain was yet another indicator of who he cared more for, memory or not?

When next he looked up, Pepper was watching him curiously, waiting.

“I couldn’t stand it if Loki got hurt by all this,” Tony told her, the truth of his words evidenced by the pain in them.

“If you know that you love Loki, then you’d only be doing a disservice to everyone if you stay engaged to Steve,” Pepper said softly. “Steve will be with someone who does not really want him, Loki will still be without you, and you will be full of regret.”

Tony sighed, knowing that she was right.

Except—

“That doesn’t help me with my memory problem,” Tony reminded her, irritated that his fucking _memory_ was once again the only thing standing in his way.

“Then I want to ask you something,” Pepper said. “Forget about the past, and just think about the present. Forget about those three years. They don’t matter anymore, they don’t exist. Imagine that you haven’t lost your memory and just focus on the person that you are now, the person who’s in love with Loki. And when you’ve done that, tell me. Do you think that the way you feel _right now_ is going to change?”

Tony could have given an answer without hesitation, but he didn’t want to just jump into it. He really, truly thought about it, considered the future from all angles. But no matter which way he looked at it, however he thought about where he could be in ten years the answer remained the same.

“No,” he said. “I don’t think it will.”

“Then why are you concerned?” she asked simply. “Now, I don’t want you to think that I’m pushing you toward anything. I just wish for you to work out what _you_ want– because for once in your life Tony, please. Chase the option that will lead to _your_ happiness.”

“But that’s the problem, Pep,” Tony implored. “Those years _did_ happen, and without my memory, I don’t know _for_ _sure_ which option that is.”

“That’s the thing about love, Tony,” Pepper said. “You never know what’s going to happen next– not until you take the leap of faith and _try_.”

It was strange, because Pepper hadn’t really said anything new. She had merely told Tony to _think_ , and yet it had done more than any of his previous pondering and panicking had managed. Maybe it was her calm demeanour, maybe the fact that she had listened calmly and been able to make sense of his turbulent thoughts, or maybe it was just her choice of words– but whichever it was, Tony had his answer.

Because if he needed to take a leap of faith, then he knew exactly who he would want to catch him when he landed on the other side.

—•—

An hour later, and Tony was once again sprawled across the couch in his penthouse, his thoughts no less messy but at least all geared in the same direction. It was now impossible for him to deny that Pepper was right– at this point, any marriage with Steve would be strained at best and most likely loveless, because even if Tony did regain his memories he would still remember how it felt to feel this way for _Loki_ , and Tony could only believe that anything else would feel cold in comparison. Lying to himself would only result in pain for everyone.

Then, just like that, Tony knew what he needed—

Because as he finally let himself imagine what the future might hold, he realised that everything he was afraid of didn’t matter. Loki would never tie him down because he hated being grounded himself, and he understood Tony in a way that no one else seemed to.

Really, with all of that on the table, Tony could hardly believe that he had entertained any other choice. There was no need to be afraid of a relationship that would give him everything he wanted.

And suddenly, with that understanding growing increasingly loud in his mind, there was nowhere Tony wanted to be but at Loki’s side.

Why on Earth had he spent the last hour moping on his couch? It was a complete and utter waste of time, and that would need to be rectified immediately.

“Hey, JARVIS?” Tony said, all but leaping from the couch in his haste. “Where’s Loki?”

There was a slight pause, but before Tony could get all the way to the elevator, JARVIS was talking.

“I can lead you to him,” he said.

“That would be great, J,” Tony replied. It was… not entirely normal, but whatever. If JARVIS got him to Loki, then Tony didn’t really care.

He was unsurprised when the elevator stopped at Loki’s floor, but he as he moved through the entrance hall Loki had insisted upon for ‘privacy reasons’ he could hear voices coming from Loki’s living room. Two _familiar_ voices that were battling in harsh undertones, cutting over each other from every direction, though it was easy to notice that one was listening to what was being said far more than the other.

“…it would be a few weeks, and you agreed! You can’t come in here and rush me now—”

“You’re stalling—”

“Because it’s _sensitive_.” Loki’s voice curled into a snarl. “I do not want to cause any harm, you know that!”

Tony frowned, and stepped closer to the corner. He wasn’t sure whether he should interrupt, because they _were_ talking about him—

“You said that you’d fix him,” Steve snapped.

“No, I promised that I would help to restore his memories,” Loki countered. “And I cannot do that without the proper time.”

“I asked Doctor Strange,” Steve said, his voice accusing. “It wouldn’t have even taken him this long, and you claim to be a superior mage. Were you lying, or are you just not as good as you say you are?”

_Right_.

Without thinking, Tony pushed away from the wall and stormed into the room, stepping between the two arguing men and planting his feet solidly on the ground with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

Loki’s expression had been one of anger, but the moment he saw Tony that morphed into something stricken– but Tony’s glare was reserved for someone else. ~~~~

“What the hell are you doing?” Tony demanded, voice harsh.

“Talking,” Steve said. “You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Like hell,” Tony snapped. “Of course I’m going to worry when you’re tearing into my friend when he’s done nothing wrong.”

Steve winced, but didn’t look particularly apologetic. “How much did you hear?”

“Just that you’re accusing Loki of something he hasn’t done,” Tony replied.

He couldn’t see Loki behind him, but he felt a soft touch on his arm and turned in response.

“Anthony—”

Tony shushed him, which was at least enough to shock Loki into silence, and then continued to snap at Steve. “He said it would take time from the start. It’s not his fault that you’ve got absolutely no patience.”

“It’s been _weeks—_ ”

“And they’re my memories, so don’t you think that if anyone should be annoyed about the time it’s taking, it should be me?” Tony interrupted. “I don’t mind waiting if Loki says that’s necessary. I trust him, not just because he’s my friend but because he actually _knows what he’s doing_.”

The hand that had remained on his arm pulled away with a suddenness that had Tony glancing back once again. Loki wasn’t looking at Tony though– his gaze was on the far wall, and he was grimacing again. It was a tiny little gesture that Steve probably hadn’t noticed, because Loki was master at hiding his expressions and that damn press of his lips and crease on his brow really were _tiny_ , but they were still there– and for someone like Loki… Well. That was probably not a good thing.

Tony wanted to assure him that if he was still worried that he would harm Tony’s mind then they could wait as long as Loki needed to be able to do it _properly_ , but then Steve was speaking again – actually almost civilly, this time – and Tony shifted his focus.

“Tony, I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve said. “I know that Loki said he would fix you, but you’ve hardly spent time with anyone else since—”

“Steve,” Tony snapped harshly. “I know you care about me, but we’re _not_ married, and I’m not helpless. I haven’t suddenly lost all my faculties along with my memory, and I am perfectly capable of making my own choices. If I want to spend my time with Loki, then you need to _leave me be_.”

Steve’s brows rose, and he flinched back half a step. His expression softened a moment later, but still Tony got the impression that ‘no’ wasn’t something Steve was used to hearing from him.

“All right,” Steve sighed. “Okay, Tony. Just… let me know when you want to talk, okay? But otherwise I’ll give you the space that you need. I promise.”

His hand half reached out, and the height of it suggested that he had meant for it to land on Tony’s cheek. But he paused the movement half way there, and his hand clenched into a fist as he pulled away and retreated out of the room.

“You should not have done that,” Loki said the moment that the sound of the elevator signalled that Steve had left.

“Yes, I should have,” Tony replied. “There’s no way in hell I was going to let him speak to you like that and get away with it.”

“I can deal with it—”

“And how long _have_ you been dealing with it?” Tony asked, hit with sudden realisation.

Loki’s breath gushed from him in a long sigh. He was still refusing to look Tony in the eye, and his expression remained mostly blank. Tony wondered for a moment why Loki seemed to be acting like Tony was about to bite his head off when he remembered.

Ah.

Right.

Yeah, Tony figured he should probably say something about what had happened in the gym the day before, realising that was probably where all of Loki’s silence and nervousness was coming from, but then—

“I was never expecting that you would say something, or that you would even realise or care,” Loki said. “It’s nothing more than what he has said before, and you’ve never… anyway. Rogers means well, he is only looking out for you.”

“He doesn’t trust you,” Tony realised. “Not really, not even after you’ve been an Avenger for years.”

“I suppose Captain Rogers’ survival instincts are merely stronger than yours.” Loki shrugged. “You were the first to treat me like… like I wasn’t going to turn on you. Like a teammate, or, a friend.”

“Of course I was,” Tony said. “You’re amazing, and I hate that Steve has been doing that– and I _hate_ that I apparently never did anything about it.”

“I don’t think you noticed. And besides, I’m fine.” Loki smiled at the ground like what he was saying was _okay_. “I have lived through far worse than stares and distrust. This is something that I can handle easily.”

“But you shouldn’t have to,” Tony muttered, rubbing his hands over his face. “God. Past me was such a dick.”

“Don’t say that,” Loki said, a small smile lifting the corner of his lips. He still wouldn’t look at Tony. “I liked past you.”

“Yeah,” Tony said, lowering his hands and staring at Loki intently. “You really did, didn’t you?”

There was a moment where Loki was simply frozen, finally looking– no, _staring_ at Tony with that deer-in-headlights level of horror that Tony had never expected nor _wanted_ to see across Loki’s face. And then Loki’s breath drew in with a gasp and he was shrinking away, skittering backward as his eyes darted toward the elevator—

“No, no, Loki, don’t go,” Tony said, reaching out and catching Loki’s wrist. “I’m sorry, god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never should have tried to hide the fact that I feel the same way.”

A hard shiver arced visibly through Loki’s body, his wrist trembling in Tony’s hold.

“You _shouldn’t_ ,” Loki said, his head shaking and his words hitching, but his eyes were wide and his hand twisted to grip Tony’s like it would physically harm him to let go. “Rogers—"

“I don’t want him,” Tony insisted, taking Loki’s other hand and stepping in close, their faces now mere inches apart. “I want _you_.”

Loki let out a shuddering breath, all attempts to fight it bleeding from him as his eyes fell closed.

“If you really think that this is wrong,” Tony whispered, “then tell me to stop.”

And just like that, Tony was looking into green eyes blazing with sudden determination and pure unadulterated want, like Loki had finally opened the floodgates on everything he’d been holding back.

“Anthony,” he breathed. “I never could.”

It was all the permission he needed, and with his heart hammering away in his chest and a thousand thousand nerves dancing wildly across his skin, Tony leaned up on his tiptoes and finally pressed their lips together in a perfect kiss.


	7. Desire

When Loki was young, he used to like to sneak out of his rooms in the middle of the night and steal up to the tallest tower in the palace. He would climb to the very top of the stairs and then slide through a window and climb further still, confident enough in his nimble footing as he clung to smooth golden ridges with the tips of his fingers to move without fear of falling. He’d pull himself all the way over the ledge at the highest, highest point, and there he would sit, on the very top of the entire world. The wind would pull at his hair as he looked over the entirety of Asgard, out across the city to the Bifröst and beyond to the rest of the Nine. It had started as a way to prove to himself that he was just as brave as Thor, because even though he couldn’t fly like his brother could, he was still willing to go so very far up into the air. But as he did it more often, as he became less scared, it didn’t feel brave anymore– it just felt exhilarating, an escape from everything else. Up there in the sky there was nothing and no one to stop him, nothing to tie him down or hold him back. Sometimes, if he felt especially restless, he would stand tall on the small space, his arms spread as the ecstasy of being so close to oblivion and yet so very, very _alive_ ignited every sense.

Kissing Anthony felt absolutely nothing like that, of course, but when those warm lips had pressed against his own, he had felt that familiar primal _swoop,_ that destructive desire to take a leap and just see where the winds would deem to take him.

Anthony’s mouth had pressed softly against his at first, just the smallest brush of skin on skin, hesitant and careful and yet certain all the same. Loki thought he might have gasped, his lips parting in shock and awe because _Anthony was kissing him_ , and it was something Loki had dreamed about for years but had never thought he would be able to have. It chased away the regret and the guilt and the shame, leaving no room for anything that wasn’t pure happiness.

And then Loki was pulling him closer, disconnecting their hands in favour of burying his own in Anthony’s hair, running them down his sides, twisting in his shirt. It didn’t matter where they were, because Anthony’s hands were doing the same. The way he could feel Anthony pressed against him, the way that their lips and tongues moved together was overwhelming and it made the rest of the world fall away until it was just the two of them. It was a little unpractised, sure, but that didn’t matter either because it was him and Anthony together, and as they kissed Loki felt far more alive than he ever had while standing on top of that tower.

When Anthony broke the kiss, Loki followed him, chasing his lips and not intending to stop in the slightest. But then Anthony started to _talk_.

“Is this okay?”

Okay? _Okay?_

Loki was having the single most perfect experience of his life, and Anthony had seen fit to interrupt it in order to ask whether Loki would define it with such a mundane word?

The thought was shoved aside as Anthony tugged at Loki’s hair in an attempt to coax his answer, and Loki’s acquiescence came out only in a low moan. Loki tilted his head back into the sharp sensation before opening his eyes and staring down at Anthony with a bone deep longing that he had come to know so very well.

Anthony’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, drawing Loki’s gaze– and then they were kissing again, first as gentle as a soft caress but it didn’t take long for their shared desire to get the better of them. And when Anthony pulled back with gasping breath, Loki ducked his head and nipped at the curve of Anthony’s neck, sucking and biting just shy of hard enough to leave a mark.

“Loki,” Anthony laughed, and Loki grinned and pressed his smile to Anthony’s throat. He nipped gently at the soft skin there one more time before lifting his head and pressing their lips together once again, deepening their kiss with purposeful strokes of his tongue. His hands were under Anthony’s shirt, caressing warm skin, pressing and scratching as their movements grew more desperate with every passing second.

They gasped into each other’s mouths as their hips rolled together, and Loki could feel Anthony’s fingers digging into his back, clutching and _clinging_ like it would pain him to let go.  Loki pulled Anthony’s lower lip between his teeth just as he dipped one of his own hands downward, fingertips brushing over the curve of Anthony’s hips and sliding under the waistband of his jeans—

“ _Loki_ ,” Anthony said again, deeper this time, almost a rasp. His breaths were coming out in pants, and Loki smirked against his mouth.

“You do not know how long I have wished for this,” Loki whispered, his hand pausing just shy of where he most wanted it to be. “I have never wanted anything more than I want you. But if you ever wish for me to stop, you need only ask.”

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” Anthony breathed, the words clearly meant to be a cocky demand but the hitch at the end made it seem like he was begging. It left Loki frozen for a moment, shocked that this was real, that Anthony wasn’t running away this time, but was all but agreeing to be _his—_

The pause gave Anthony the time to press closer still, aligning their bodies and pressing Loki’s hand between them—

And Loki shuddered, needing _more—_

He used his free hand to loosen the button to create enough space to move, and then he slid the other further down until he was cupping Anthony’s arousal, the thin material of Anthony’s underwear all that remained between their skin. And Anthony _moaned_ , the sound going straight to Loki’s hardening cock and causing him to inhale sharply.

“Ah– fuck, Loki,” Anthony gasped, and when Loki glanced up to see his expression he found that he couldn’t look away. Anthony’s cheeks were flushed pink below dark, hooded eyes, his lips swollen from their kiss and still slightly parted. It was desire framed by a touch of frustration– it was pure beauty, and the knowledge that it was all just for _Loki_ caused his muscles to quiver with need.

One of Anthony’s hands was on Loki’s shoulder blade, his nails digging into skin. The other tugged at his shirt as it untwisted from his death grip on the material, and then Anthony began tugging at the ties on Loki’s pants instead.

The pressure was slight, so, so _slight_ , but it sent a fire across every nerve and Loki jerked toward it, almost dislodging Anthony’s hand. The movement caused his own arm to twitch and Anthony matched Loki’s shudder, the two of them almost leaning on each other for support. Their foreheads pressed together and their breaths were harsh and wild as Anthony finished dealing with the ties and Loki began to push Anthony’s underwear out of the way.

“Have you got any—” Anthony’s voice was cut off with a gasp as Loki’s fingers finally touched hot skin, drawing Anthony’s cock free from the layers of material. It didn’t take full mental faculties to discern what he had wanted though, and rather than waste time heading to the bedroom, Loki pulled at his seiðr, allowing it to respond to his will and coat his fingers with thick oil.

Then as he began to move his hand in long, slow strokes, Anthony threw back his head with a full body shudder.

“Oh _fuck_ ,” he swore, and his fingers finally dipped into Loki’s pants to return the favour, his left hand still clutching at Loki’s shoulder.

Their strokes were too fast and too shaky, desperation from too long a wait making them fumble. But it was more than enough and they gasped and whimpered into each other’s mouths, tremors wracking through their bodies as they brought each other to their peak.

Loki came first, his release powerful and blinding and enough to almost bring him to his knees, his hold around Anthony’s shoulders all that was holding him steady.

“ _Anthony_ ,” he gasped, and through the haze of pleasure he slid his hand down Anthony’s cock in a few final, firm strokes– and then Anthony came with a soft cry, his face pressing into the curve of Loki’s neck.

They stayed entangled in each other for a few moments after before moving to the couch without a word, curling together as fingers trailed over skin with a sense of amazement. The stickiness between them was a little uncomfortable, and Loki willed it away with barely a thought, unwilling and feeling unable to move. It was curious– they’d only used their hands, yet Loki felt sated and pleased in a way he hadn’t in such a very long time, if ever at all. He supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised by that– everything Loki felt around Anthony was more intense than anything he’d experienced with anyone else.

Anthony’s skin was sticky and damp, the scent of sweat clinging to him, but Loki simply breathed in and pressed closer, revelling in the impossible fact that Anthony had _chosen him_. He’d hoped, he’d _dreamed_ , but for it to actually happen was an ecstasy beyond any reality Loki had imagined.

“Anthony,” Loki whispered again, the name feeling almost like a prayer as it fell from his lips. “You’re _here_.”

“Yeah, Loki,” Anthony said gently, leaning up to brush a soft kiss across Loki’s temple. He seemed to understand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The words were well meant and sent an initial wave of joy arcing through Loki’s body, but it inevitably crashed against a wall of truth. Loki tried to not to focus on it and curled in tighter, trying to fall into the sensation of Anthony stroking his hair and pressing kisses to his shoulder, but—

_There are more hearts at stake than just your own._

Loki had fallen so far, and he could have lived with that– except for the way that he had somehow managed to drag Anthony down with him. It was impossible now for this to end in anything other than pain, and yet…

If it was wrong, if it would bring only hardship– why did it taste so sweet?

—•—

They did not tell anyone.

They didn’t discuss their plans for discretion, but they were both perfectly capable of recognising the knife’s edge they walked upon, the precarious balance that could be undone with the lightest breath of wind.

In a way, it reminded Loki of his very few trysts while he lived in Asgard, hidden by necessity both due to his status, and the gender of his chosen partners. But those had never lasted long and had always been based merely on physical attraction. This courting with Anthony by comparison was as sunlight is to shadow, as the bright glow of Valhalla is to the murky fog of Niflheim.

Every touch was blessing, every kiss a dance of perfection that couldn’t be dimmed by the cloud of what _might_. After they had both been assured that their touches were welcome they were rarely _not_ touching, revelling in the simple fact that they could.

They spent most of their time in Anthony’s workshop, as that was where they were least likely to be interrupted, and neither enjoyed being forced to act somewhat aloof when they were in the presence of anyone else. They were near inseparable, and everyone in the Tower quickly learned that if they were looking for one, they need only find the other.

It was an odd thing, really, that Loki didn’t mind that. But Anthony did not make him feel like he was being held down, or like he was being smothered– no, Anthony always had and always _would_ make Loki feel alive.

After merely a month they were already spending every night curled together in Anthony’s penthouse, unwilling to be separated even for that short period of slumber when they were able to chase away each other’s nightmares and find happiness not only in physical intimacy – though they silently decided to move relatively slow on that front – but more in the simple comfort of holding each other close.

These few weeks were easily some of the best of Loki’s life. Every moment was bliss, and there was very little in the world that could have taken that away from them.

But that ‘very little’ included, of course, Steve Rogers.

Rogers left them alone for the most part, believing Loki’s not-quite-lie that he needed to be familiar with Anthony before he could bring back the memories, and willing to hold to his promise to Anthony to stay out of their way. Loki still saw the wistful stares, though, the longing and the yearning as his blue eyes followed Anthony every time they were in the same room. Rogers was suffering, but he still tried to make Anthony happy.

And, for now, Loki was glad that Rogers interpreted that to mean that he should stay away.

But, their respite wasn’t to last, and Rogers caught up with them for a conversation during one of the Avengers’ board-game nights.

They had been playing a game called ‘Monopoly’, which involved using mock Midgardian currency to purchase rectangles on a board, and then taking that money from the other players if their token was unfortunate enough to land on a rectangle that was owned by someone else. The tokens themselves were not, according to the humans, the usual set– the box of the game had the words ‘Avengers Limited Edition’ plastered across every surface, and the tokens were miniatures of the six original Avengers themselves. Anthony had immediately snatched up the largest, greenest piece, at which Banner had sighed heavily and plucked the Captain America token from the pile. Romanoff had the Iron Man piece in her hand before Loki even knew how it had got there, and Thor picked up Black Widow with a grin. Rogers took Hawkeye, and Loki was rather disgruntled when the only piece left for him to take was Thor– but a quick spell fixed that, and a tiny version of himself pranced across the table and took its place on the square labelled ‘Go’.

Anthony watched the show of magic with wide eyes, before turning and demanding – not with words, but with an imploring look that was irritatingly effective – that Loki do the same to the rest. Loki gave in with a soft sigh, and soon all of the tokens were stretching their muscles and preparing to do battle.

(And if the Captain America token was constantly tripping over his feet– well now, that was just an unfortunate and entirely random glitch in the spell.)

Loki and Anthony allied themselves at the beginning of the game, duplicating money and making easy swaps that didn’t look easy to everyone else– but they’d grown accustomed to reading minute expressions that carried a whole conversation, and they were able to keep their alliance a secret.

They slowly amassed piles of money that went unnoticed by the other players, focused as they were on the board– and the game went remarkably smoothly considering the personalities that were seated around the table.

At least, it did at first.

The problems began when Romanoff’s token went through the ‘Just Visiting’ area while Banner’s was in ‘Jail’. The miniature Iron Man waved his hands and pointed fingers, and while it did not make any noise it was quite clearly mocking the token in the orange square. It only took two rolls worth of this behaviour before the tiny Captain America was breaking out of the ‘Jail’, leaping to the other side of the space and knocking the tiny Iron Man to the board. The other tokens seemed to cheer from their own rectangles, waving their arms about as the two violent tokens shoved and kicked.

In the end, Romanoff reached out with a long-suffering sigh and pulled them apart with her fingers, before setting them back down in their proper places.

“Loki,” Rogers had said, a hand running through his hair in frustration. “Can’t you turn them off? I’m trying to concentrate.”

“I could,” Loki said. “But I don’t think I shall.” He smiled down at where the miniature Iron Man and Hawkeye were trying to stretch across three rectangles to share a high-five while the Captain America stared at the ground with crossed arms. “I find them amusing.”

Anthony snorted, Rogers groaned, and Loki smirked when he saw Banner flash an amused grin.

“At least it’s only them that’s fighting,” he said.

“Oh, great,” Anthony sighed, though his amusement did not fade. “Now you’ve jinxed it.”

The following turns were riddled with far more incidents, like a dam had burst loose– tiny Hulk throwing a tantrum when he landed just shy of free parking, tiny Loki elbowing tiny Captain America out of his rectangle as he passed by, tiny Black Widow kicking a house halfway across the board when she was unfortunate enough to land next to it.

Despite all that, by the time they had been playing for an hour, Loki had a small fortune amassed in front of him and an impressive array of colourful cards, though he was missing one of a set. So when it was his turn, he looked to Anthony with a bright smile.

“Would you be willing to trade me that green card there?”

Anthony smiled, well used to the routine. He offered a number that was far too high, and Loki put on the show of haggling, but in the end agreed with a dramatic grimace. He handed Anthony the money, took the card– and then used the money Anthony had passed him back under the table to buy tiny plastic houses and hotels.

“Hang on,” said Rogers, watching Loki with narrowed eyes. “You just—”

“Bought three hotels,” Loki sighed heavily. “I hardly have any of these dollars left, now.”

Rogers still looked suspicious, but was distracted when his Hawkeye token made a swipe at Anthony’s Hulk. (Loki may have had something to do with that.)

A few turns later, and that same Hulk landed on one of Loki’s green rectangles. Anthony grumbled but handed over the amount indicated on the card– and a few moments after his hand bumped expectantly against Loki’s thigh below the table.

Loki ignored him.

After all, Rogers had long since declared bankruptcy and Thor had only a few bills left, his brow furrowed in concentration as he sorted between his few cards, looking for one to mortgage. Banner was hanging on by the skin of his teeth and the profits from his orange and red corner, while Romanoff was staying quiet and refusing to respond to any taunts.

Anthony poked again, and then again– and then kicked out at Loki’s shin. He ended up hitting the table leg, which jarred the board and had everyone looking up with suspicion.

“Do you need something, Anthony?” Loki asked, ensuring that his expression was a picture of innocence.

Anthony grit his teeth. “No,” he said, his glare fierce.

Loki smiled beatifically, and Anthony narrowed his eyes further in acceptance of the challenge.

They were in the endgame now, and Loki was done playing nice.

And that was when it started to turn vicious. Never before had Loki seen such bloodshed– the tokens spat and hit and (on one memorable occasion) _bit_ , and the players were not much better. No longer protected by Loki’s stream of duplicated money, Anthony began playing to kill, building up his hotels and demanding harsh bargains.

It hit Loki hard– he landed on Anthony’s ‘Avengers Tower’ space, and then the dark blue rectangle that was decorated with a hotel, and _then_ yet another location space (this time ‘SHIELD Headquarters’) all in a row, and he was severely regretting giving Anthony the means to acquire the full sets. But his self-replenishing pile of currency served him well—

Until—

“You’re cheating,” Rogers accused. “You didn’t have enough cash to pay that, and yet your pile isn’t going down.”

Loki silently cursed– he should have realised that since Rogers had become bankrupt, he would be able to watch without distraction.

“Loki,” Thor said, his voice aching with disappointment as he looked up with a frown. “How could you?”

Loki glanced between Thor’s sad expression, Rogers’ irritation and Anthony’s outright _glee_ —

And how dare he? He was equally guilty in this—

Actually—

“Anthony was cheating also,” Loki said.

“Was not,” Anthony denied immediately.

“Were to.”

“I _was not—_ ”

“All right, calm down,” Banner said. “Loki, stop cheating. Everyone else, can we just keep playing, please?”

“There’s no point when Loki’s been cheating,” Anthony grumbled, and Loki kicked him lightly under the table.

“Children, play nice,” Romanoff said, taking the dice from where they had been discarded by Thor’s elbow. She rolled, and the miniature Iron Man began to move, his little metal boots sauntering over the ‘Avengers Tower’ space, across a ‘Chance’, over a ‘Tax’… and coming to rest on the most expensive rectangle on the board.

Anthony immediately began to crow—

And was cut off as the board and all its tiny pieces was flung into the air, the tokens’ limbs flailing as they were scattered around the room.

“It’s a boring game anyway,” Romanoff muttered as she stalked toward the elevator.

Every eye watched as the doors slid shut behind her, and then they turned the mess that she had left behind. The pieces were all over the floor– money, tokens, cards, hotels, the whole entire set. Combined with the fact that several of the pieces were now not only moving but were _irritated_ , and it would be a rather difficult job to clear away.

“Loki and I left an experiment down the workshop,” Anthony said quickly, standing and taking Loki’s wrist to drag him along as well. Loki didn’t really mind, and followed with a fond smile.

“Brother, wait, what should I do with these?” Thor asked, holding a struggling miniature Captain America by his left foot.

“Catch them, put them in the box,” Loki said with a shrug. “I am sure you shall not find it too difficult. They are only toys, after all.”

Since Romanoff had taken the elevator and Anthony was clearly aiming for a quick getaway, they instead went out to the balcony where Loki would be able to skywalk them down the several floors without any need for stairs. Anthony was about to step into Loki’s arms for the trip when the slide of the door interrupted them, and they turned to see Rogers joining them outside.

“Steve,” Anthony said, still remaining far too close to Loki to be considered merely friendly. “Did you leave Bruce to clean up all those pieces by himself—”

“Thor’s helping,” Rogers said.

Loki snorted. Through the window, they had the perfect view as Thor swatted with his hand and tried to grab the Iron Man out of the air, but the token simply spun around lazily and flew up to the ceiling.

“I know you said you want space, and I’m not trying to impose on that,” Rogers said, holding up a hand placatingly. The reference to the previous conversation was a clear attempt at civility if Loki had ever seen one, but his next words cut down any chance of it working in an instant. “I spoke to Wanda.”

Loki immediately looked to Anthony, knowing that he would not react well to that news—

And indeed, Anthony’s expression had become entirely closed off, his brows pinching together in agitation as his whole body became as tense as a bowstring.

“No,” Anthony said harshly.

“I haven’t even told you what she said,” Rogers tried, but Anthony was only stiffening further.

“She’s not getting back into my head—”

“But she could help—”

“He said no,” Loki snapped, taking a harsh step forward– not to be standing in front of Anthony, but his meaning was clear “If he does not wish to allow the witch into his mind again, then I will ensure that she does not go anywhere near him.”

Rogers glanced to Loki with a sense of dismissal before turning straight back to Anthony. “Wanda has plenty of experience with—”

“With what?” Anthony cut in sharply. “Causing damage?”

Loki was thankful that Anthony had spoken before he could, because Loki would not have been half so polite. Because while Loki may not enjoy using mind magics, he had been proficient in them for centuries– and Rogers’ belief that an untrained mortal who acquired her powers through the manipulation of an Infinity Stone could be at a similar level betrayed his lack of understanding. Which, in turn, merely demonstrated the fact that he was entirely unqualified to be making suggestions as to whom should be helping Anthony with his memories in the first place.  

So it yes, it was good that Anthony had spoken first. Loki would likely have said something entirely unpleasant.

Rogers, though, remained unperturbed.

“Wanda says she can do it without hurting you,” he tried again. “That so long as you do not fight her—”

“How the hell am I meant to not fight her when just the _thought_ of her in my head makes me—” Anthony cut himself off with a shudder.

“She may think that she can do this, but she can’t,” Loki stated, unable to stop from jumping in again when Anthony was obviously distressed. “This is far more delicate than lifting a car above her head—”

“How do you know what she can and can’t do?” Rogers asked. “You’ve said before that your magic is different from hers—”  

“And I’ve also said that ripping through a person’s mind is easy. Of course she is able to do that,” Loki said, the anger in his voice growing harsher with every word. “She could bring Anthony’s memories back in an instant, of that I have no doubt– but in the process she would leave a terrible mark. And if what you say is true, if she believes that Anthony attempting not to resist is enough then she truly does not understand the depth of what she is dealing with. A person’s mind is not a muscle, not something that can be kept under control—”

“Loki, it’s okay,” Anthony muttered, and Loki wanted to snap and snarl because it _was not_. But Anthony was not looking at him– his eyes were on Rogers, and his next words had Loki’s heart lurching to his throat. “I trust Loki a hell of a lot more than Maximoff,” he said, “and I’m not going to have anyone else riffling around in my head. If having Loki do it means that it’ll take longer, then so be it.”

 _Oh_.

Loki stared at the sincerity etched across Anthony’s face, not quite able to stop himself from waiting for the hammer to fall and everything to come crashing down. Anthony was willing to put so much trust in him, to wait as long as was needed just because Loki had said that it was necessary—

And he didn’t even have any proof.

He was merely trusting on Loki’s character, which, as much as it warmed Loki’s heart, was of course a horrible decision.

Right back at the beginning of the whole mess, when Rogers had requested that Loki restore Anthony’s memories, Loki had started to play a dangerous game. He had known that he was familiar enough with Anthony to complete the necessary act in mere moments, but he knew then that nothing would change– Anthony would go back to loving Rogers, to being Loki’s friend.

So, Loki had done the only thing he felt like he could, and had asked for _time_. Not to acquaint himself with the tenor of _Anthony_ – there was no need for that, not when he knew the feel of that man better than he knew himself. He’d hoped that the time would allow them to grow closer, to come to know each other in a way that had been impossible with Rogers always looking over their shoulders. And they _had,_ and it had been _perfect_ – but now every lie and web he had concocted was being weaved through Anthony’s words, poisoning that which should only have been sweet.

“He is my friend,” Anthony continued, blissfully ignorant of the turmoil in Loki’s mind. “He was before, but he is now too, and yeah, I’ve formed that opinion _on my own._ So yes, I trust him with my life, _and_ my mind.”

“But how?” Rogers asked. “How is it that you trust him but not me? When you woke from the accident you said it was because we both tried to kill you, but—”

“It’s not the same—”

“Isn’t it?” Rogers asked again. “How is it different?”

“It’s…” Anthony bit his lip, as if he was unsure of whether he should speak his mind. But the indecision lasted only as long as it took him to touch his fingers to Loki’s wrist in gesture that comforted them both. “Loki tried to kill me because I was an enemy and I was in his way,” Anthony said. “But you… you were my friend, and you tried to kill me because I’m me.”

“You know that isn’t true—” Rogers said, but Anthony cut him off.

“Isn’t it? I know I struck Loki pretty hard in that fight, and he’s not angry with me for it.”

“Aren’t I?” Loki muttered, pushing through his own difficult thoughts and hoping to lighten some of Anthony’s anger. “It hurt.”

“Good, it was meant to,” Anthony replied with a grin. “Because we were enemies at the time.”

“But not anymore,” Loki agreed.

“Definitely not.”

Loki offered Anthony a small smile before they both turned back to Rogers.

“None of that matters, though, not really, not right now. But you have no right to try and dictate who I spend time with. So, please, Steve,” Anthony said. “Please leave us alone. And please– mean it, this time.”

“Okay, Tony,” Rogers sighed. “If that’s what you think is best.”

“It is,” Anthony insisted.

Rogers bowed his head and moved to leave, but paused just before heading back inside.

“But I’m still here, don’t forget that,” he said, staring at Anthony piercingly. “If you need me for anything, all you need to do is ask.”

—•—

Perhaps it should not have been surprising that Rogers kept his word. Over the coming weeks they hardly saw him– Rogers preferred to spend the time in the company of Wilson, who had returned to support his friend during the difficult time. Anthony had been stiff with Wilson when he had first come back to the Tower, but not overly hostile, and both he and Loki been glad for the way he split Rogers’ attention. But yet, since that conversation about trust, Rogers remained an ever-present weight on Loki’s mind.

Some moments managed to push him away, when he and Anthony were together and the rest of the world just ceased to exist. In those moments, Loki managed to forget that there was anything hanging in the space between them, and could almost believe that they could stay together for as long as they both wished it.

But then reality would come crashing back, and even the purest of moments could be tainted.

They were entwined on the ratty but comfortable couch in Anthony’s workshop, Anthony’s head resting on Loki’s bare chest while Loki played with Anthony’s hair. They had simply been talking, chatting about everything and nothing. It was peaceful until DUM-E grew curious, or maybe jealous– he ambled over and leaned down until his arm was resting on Loki’s shoulder, causing Anthony to look ridiculous as he tried to stare at the bot out of the corner of his eye.

“What are you doing?” Anthony asked. “DUM-E, come on. Shoo—”

“Don’t,” Loki said, reaching over with one of his hands to give DUM-E a light pat. “He’s just curious.”

“He’s slacking off, is what he is,” Anthony muttered, but stopped complaining. He turned slightly, dislodging Loki’s fingers from his hair as he fit his hands under his chin, grinning brightly as he rested his whole weight over Loki’s body. “You really like him, huh?”

“He’s incredible,” Loki said, running his hands over the bot’s strut again. DUM-E preened, and then, his desire for attention met, rolled back away toward U, probably with the intention of boasting. Loki turned back to find that Anthony was watching him strangely, his expression soft and open. “What is it?”

“Steve never liked them,” Anthony said, and Loki managed not to roll his eyes as he realised that Anthony was only speaking of Rogers in a relatively negative manner. “He just… treated them like pets, maybe, like a dog or a cat. And I mean, people love their pets, but they’re…”

“They’re more than that,” Loki agreed, his gaze following DUM-E’s movements on the other side of the room.

“I wonder if he ever understood that,” Anthony mused. Then he laughed. “Doubt it. I mean, he proposed to me in a fancy restaurant, after all.”

Loki snorted. “Oaf. Anyone with eyes would know that you’d much rather be proposed to over a cheeseburger.”

It was only when the words resulted in a long pause that Loki realised what he had done, and his green snapped back to meet startled brown. He’d spoken without thinking, and now Anthony was staring at him like he’d never seen him before.

“What?” Loki asked warily.

Anthony immediately flashed a smirk, the astonishment vanishing in an instant. “Thought about that, have you?” he asked, the seriousness of the question hidden behind the veil of a jest.

Loki shook his head. “No.”

“Well, that doesn’t matter,” Anthony said. “Because _now_ I’m curious.” He rolled off Loki only to shove at him until he sat up, and then curled back into Loki’s side in a way that meant they could still face each other intently. “How would you have done it?”

It was mildly embarrassing how quickly Loki’s answer came to mind. He hadn’t been lying before– he had not thought on that particular matter, because if he ever had the false sense of hope might have been enough to break him. But now, with Anthony in his arms and _asking_ for this answer, Loki knew it would only be a pleasure to indulge.

What he’d said earlier was the truth, of course– an expensive restaurant was out of the question. Anthony would have preferred something like a cheeseburger, yes– or maybe a pizza, or even a homecooked meal. But in the grand scheme of it the food wouldn’t really have mattered, because the most important thing would be—

“I know that I would have done it away from the crowds,” Loki said quietly. “Out of the public eye. Quiet and intimate.” He smiled as he glanced back down, and the tender emotion that graced Anthony’s expression granted him the confidence to add, “Just the two of us.”

“I think I’d like that,” Anthony whispered– and Loki wondered if he even noticed that he’d spoken in the future tense. It was a harrowing thought, because if Anthony had, and had done it _purposefully_ , then he was putting so much confidence in this relationship that had been founded on a lie.

Yet, Loki smiled, as the radiance of the thought that Anthony could ever enjoy the _idea_ of a union between them was too bright to ignore.

“I think I would, too.”

Anthony accepted that by pushing up and pressing a kiss to his lips, slow and gentle and just as perfect as every other that they had shared. 

They didn’t take it any further – both were still rather sated from their earlier explorations, after all – but it left Loki feeling light as they parted with a final, soft caress.

“I don’t think I’d want anyone except you,” Anthony breathed, his eyes still closed—

And _that_ was when reality came crashing down, shattering the perfect little bubble that Loki had concocted. Because Anthony may not be lying– he may even think that he _meant_ it, but he couldn’t know that. Not when he didn’t have all of the facts.

“No, Loki, listen,” Anthony said, and Loki found that he couldn’t look away from the intense emotion in his gaze. “I know what you’re thinking, I spent way too long thinking about it myself. But right now, right here in this moment, _you_ are the one that I want, okay?”

Loki swallowed, but the word still tasted bitter. “Okay.”

Anthony didn’t seem convinced, though, and he leaned forward to touch his lips to Loki’s cheek in the briefest caress.

“I love you,” Anthony whispered, the words a brush of air against Loki’s skin. “I know it hasn’t been long, even without everything else. But I _do_ , and I don’t ever want to give you a reason to doubt it.”

At first, Loki felt the greatest happiness he had ever known, and he’d wanted nothing more than to say it back. But he knew that he could not– he would not tarnish those words with the guilt that surged through him upon hearing them, and the knowledge that Anthony would never have said them if he had never forgotten what he felt for Rogers was more than enough to cause his heart to ache.

Worse than that– if he discovered that Loki was keeping his memory from him, Anthony would never want anything to do with him again. Which, perhaps, may not be such a bad thing in the end.

Anthony deserved better than a liar and a thief.

But Loki was nothing if not selfish, so he pressed his lips to Anthony’s and kissed like there would be a thousand years of this, like he was professing his own feelings without needing to voice them aloud.

He kissed like there was nothing wrong, and he allowed the sweet dance of their lips and tongues to swallow his near overpowering guilt.


	8. Agony

It had been almost a week since Tony had told Loki that he loved him, and he had yet to receive a response in kind.

He didn’t want to push, because he didn’t want it to matter– he didn’t want to be _that guy_ , and really, he knew the answer anyway. When he noticed how Loki watched him, how Loki seemed to always be listening and just managed to understand Tony in a way that no one else ever did, Tony didn’t think he was being egotistical or presumptuous.

Loki loved him, he just wouldn’t _say_ it.

It was a ridiculous thing to be concerned over, Tony knew that. The words _shouldn’t_ matter, not really, not when Loki told him over and over in a language of touches and expressions that spoke so much louder and with so much more truth than words ever could.

But… it would have been nice, you know? To hear it said, to be able to hold on to the memory of those three syllables falling from Loki’s lips.

Tony had been hesitant, at first, as everyone always is, knowing for weeks what he’d wanted to say but too afraid to give it voice– because the moment it was out there, he’d never be able to take it back, and the ball would be in Loki’s court.

He’d been afraid of what might happen, but then Loki had proven just how deeply he _knew_ Tony, how he knew him inside out and had for so very long, and Tony had been hit out of nowhere by a surge of emotion that… well, no, it hadn’t come from nowhere, had it? It had been building right from the beginning, and while Rhodey and Pepper had helped him put a name to his feelings weeks before, he’d never really, _truly_ felt the full force of it until that simple moment on the couch, wrapped in Loki’s arms.

And once Tony had managed to say it the first time, it was the easiest thing in the world– and he said it again, and again. An ‘I love you’ in the morning when they rolled out of Tony’s bed; in the kitchen, when Loki handed him a coffee; in the workshop, when Loki was engrossed in a book; in the evening, when they curled against each other to sleep; at any time of the day, for no reason other than the simple fact that it was true. Loki would always look happy to hear it, his lips curving upward in that bright, beautiful smile that was reserved for moments like those. Tony adored those smiles, and he adored the kisses that followed even more. But there would always be something else hiding underneath, something that Tony was too afraid to name—

Because if that was what Tony thought it was, if that was _regret—_

It couldn’t be.

Loki loved him, Tony knew it, and their weeks together were utterly perfect.

They fit together like they had always meant to, and it was so easy that it was a simple thing for Tony to just let go and allow himself to fall.

Maybe the fact that it felt so easy was how they’d become so careless.

They’d always kept their hands to themselves when they were with others, but they’d kept up their effortless banter because it had always _been_ effortless, and it had hardly changed with the updates to their relationship status.

When the others didn’t so much as blink an eye at some of the more flirtatious remarks that had begun to slip through without censor, Tony realised that this was _normal_ for them, normal enough that the others saw no difference to how Loki and Tony had acted before. It shouldn’t have been that surprising, because Tony flirted with everyone, but it made him once again wish he could give his past self a good old whack. Goddamn, Loki must have had fortitude of steel if _this_ was normal. But yeah, at least it meant that the others were unlikely to catch on, and their relationship remained a secret– although, a few of Thor’s subtle knowing looks hadn’t actually been all that subtle, and Loki always went a bit tight lipped whenever Thor possibly knowing the truth was brought up. But other than that, they were in the clear. Tony was soaring on the high of being in love, and he believed that no one would ever find out, because that just might mean the end– and that, at least, was incomprehensible.

But, well. Nothing that good can stay a secret forever.

Tony had been in the workshop in the early hours of the night, having been woken from a nightmare that hadn’t been harsh enough to wake the sleeping god beside him, but had been bad enough that he hadn’t wished to return to sleep. He _had_ wanted to greet Loki, though, and had headed back up when JARVIS had told him the mage was awake.

Loki had become more and more physically affectionate as time went on, never missing an opportunity to bring Tony close. It wasn’t possessive holds or confining embraces that Tony knew from past experience would make him wish he could run away– no, Loki would merely trail his fingers across Tony’s wrist, stand close enough to brush against his arm, press their legs together as they sat beside one another on the couch. Always touching, but never restraining in any way. Never anything that made Tony itch with the sensation of being locked down. It made him feel appreciated and _wanted_ more than simply coveted, and made the moments when Loki _did_ hold him feel that much sweeter. He loved it when Loki touched him, and when Loki’s arms curled around his waist from behind as he was dealing with the stubborn coffee machine, Tony turned in his hold and gladly accepted the kiss that was bestowed upon his lips.

“What’s this for?” he asked softly.

“Do I need a reason?” Loki asked.

“No,” Tony replied, a jolt of happiness tugging the corner of his lips into a smile. “I suppose you don’t.”

He slid his arms over Loki’s shoulders and leaned back, grinning as Loki took the permission for what it was and pressed him against the counter, the full length of their bodies aligning deliciously. Loki had to bow his head to kiss him again, and Tony stretched up to meet him half way, his fingers threading through Loki’s hair and pulling him closer, _closer_ —

“I knew it.”

Broken and cutting and aching with more pain than should be possible to contain within three simple words, Steve’s voice was both immediately startling and entirely unwelcome.

“Oh,” Tony gasped, his hands gripping Loki’s shirt even as he pushed the god away. “Steve.”

“Tony,” Steve said.

Loki was moving backward, following Tony’s shove, but Tony hadn’t meant him to _go_ , just to give them enough space to turn and talk—

He let go of his death-grip on Loki’s shirt but took the god’s hand instead, entwining their fingers in a simple but clear declaration. Steve’s gaze followed the movement, his hands clenching into fists at his sides, tight enough to whiten his knuckles. 

“Yeah, okay,” Tony said, lifting his chin. “So you knew. That didn’t mean that you had any right to come barging in here.”

Maybe Tony could have dealt with the matter with a little more tact, but to be fair, he hadn’t been given any warning. And tact had never really been his area of expertise.

“Any right?” Steve echoed. “You are my fiancé—”

“Not anymore,” Tony corrected. “How did you get in here, anyway? JARVIS—”

“Don’t blame him,” Steve said. His pained expression had grown angry while Tony spoke, and Tony was not unaware of the way Steve’s gaze kept flashing to Loki with a hateful glare. “You never disabled my unrestricted access up here, and he could not refuse my access code.”

“That was meant to be for emergencies,” Tony said, not sure why he was arguing _that_ point. Panic, probably. Or pettiness. Maybe both. “For if you thought I was getting blind drunk, or—”

“Once it was,” Steve cut in. “Now, it’s because I _live_ here.”

“Used to live here,” Tony corrected again.

“No,” Steve snapped. “You’re only saying that because you don’t remember, and because _he_ used this opportunity to get inside your head!”

“Okay, no,” Tony said. “We’ve had this conversation, Steve. You don’t get to go back to blaming Loki for everything.”

“Well, maybe he’s not lying about needing time—”

“Maybe?” Tony asked sharply.

“—but he’s certainly using the chance either way. He knew you were vulnerable—”

“I do not think that Anthony has ever been vulnerable in his life,” Loki cut in, and warmth blossomed somewhere down in Tony’s stomach. “And even if he were, I would _not_ take advantage in the way that you are suggesting.”

Steve quietened for a moment, his brow furrowing in thought.

“Is it just sex, Tony?” he asked.

Tony flinched, and his words came out a little harsher than what was probably necessary. “Just sex, like it was with you?”

It was Steve’s turn to flinch. “That isn’t—”

“Don’t try to tell me that’s not how it happened, I’ve already worked it out,” Tony snapped. “Remind me, who has been taking advantage of me?”

“That’s not fair,” Steve said. “What we did was regrettable only in that we didn’t have the start we deserved. But I don’t regret it wholly, because it led to something that was worth far more. And you felt the same way I did. You told me so yourself.”

“Oh yeah?” Tony asked. “Then where’s my ring, huh? I wasn’t wearing it when I woke up, and I thought maybe that was just for practical reasons. But I saw one, in that video. A ring that the video actually never shows me accepting because we left for sex. So tell me– what was our relationship based on, exactly?”

“Anthony, you know that’s not all it was,” Loki said, and it sounded like the words were physically paining him– but that he said it anyway was telling, wasn’t it?

And besides—

“That’s how it started, though,” Tony pointed out. “And he’s worried that the same thing is happening between us.”

“Isn’t it?” Steve asked, not realising just _how_ far off the mark he was. “You spend every moment with him without giving yourself the chance to breathe. How do you know that this is more than just—”

“I love him,” Tony snapped. “And I don’t need sex to know that’s the truth.”

“No,” Steve said instantly, his whole posture radiating vicious denial. “No, you can’t. He’s using you—”

“I would _never_ ,” Loki snarled, and Tony was already speaking over the top of him—

“Loki wouldn’t do that—”

“It doesn’t matter,” Steve cut over them both with a pained laugh.

“If it doesn’t matter, then why are you here?” Tony asked.

“Because this isn’t you,” Steve replied. “The Tony that I fell in love with would never do this to me.”

The words were a sharp knife digging into Tony’s gut, because shit, he was the same person, didn’t Steve see that? But then, what makes a person who they are? Did those three years really make such a difference, or would Tony have fallen in love with Loki eventually anyway, if he hadn’t lost his memory?

Tony’s heart instantly told him that the answer was _yes_ , and honestly? He believed it.

He was still _the same person_ – if Steve didn’t see that then he really was blind, and it no longer hurt quite so much as Tony grasped an answer.

“Yeah, well, then I guess I’m not the Tony you fell in love with,” he snapped. “I’m the Tony who fell in love with _Loki—”_

“Yes,” Steve snarled, though the anger had given way to pain. “And you wouldn’t love him if you remembered loving _me!_ ”

Tony was about to deny it, but before he could Loki flinched away like he’d been dealt a physical blow. He was staring in horror not at Steve, but at _Tony_ , his previously determined expression shattering like a dropped wineglass.

“Loki, no,” Tony said, starting forward with a few quick steps that were only just fast enough for him to catch Loki’s wrist before he vanished. “Please,” he said. “Don’t leave me.”

He only meant in that moment of course, asking Loki not to leave him alone with Steve. Yet…

“I shall not,” Loki said. “And I never will. But it is not I who has ever been at risk of leaving.”

_Ouch._

“I’m not going to leave you,” Tony swore instantly despite his confusion, but the ring of truth in his words was immediately contested.

“You can’t promise that,” Steve cut in, “Not when you don’t remember that you—”

“Shut up, Steve,” Tony snapped, and was rewarded with the tiniest lift of Loki’s lips– but it didn’t last long.

“He’s right,” Loki said. “You never would have looked at me if you remembered who you were meant to love—”

“Oh, fuck that,” Tony snarled. He used his free hand to cup Loki’s cheek, the touch light despite the harshness of his words. “You’re the one I’m meant to love, and don’t you _ever_ forget it.”

For a moment, Tony thought that maybe he’d broken through. But then Loki was letting go of Tony’s hand and stepping away.

“Just… don’t,” Loki said, his level voice doing nothing to hide the agony in his gaze. “Not right now. I don’t think that I…”

The end of the sentence was lost in a shimmer of green, and Tony’s fingers were left grasping at air. He wasn’t sure what he’d said to make Loki feel that he had to leave. Maybe the ‘forget’ thing had been a little too close to home, or– well, Tony didn’t fucking know. But he _did_ know that Loki was hurting, and he turned to the source of that hurt with a fiery anger burning inside.

“I’m going to lay this out for you simply,” Tony said. “I love him, and that’s the truth. I know that what we’ve done to you wasn’t fair—”

“Not fair?” Steve asked. “You’re engaged to me, Tony, and yet you’ve gone and—”

“ _No_ ,” Tony snapped. “All you’ve done since I woke up in this goddamn year is tell me what _used to_ feel and how I will inevitably end up feeling in the future, and all that’s done is made me feel like I’m trapped. So now, you’re going to listen to me, and you’re not going to interrupt.”

For a moment, Tony honestly thought that Steve was going to argue further. But then Tony narrowed his eyes and steeled his gaze, and Steve gave an accepting nod.

“Right,” Tony said firmly. “Okay. Like I said, I know that it wasn’t fair, all right? I know that I was engaged to you, and that you love me– or at least, who I was before that fucking Doombot smeared my brains on the inside of my helmet. And I know that I should have talked to you before all of this happened, but I was sure that you would make it impossible. I thought that you’d walk over everything I said just like you had with everything else, just like you are _now_ , telling me that what I feel for Loki is irrelevant just because I can’t remember the past three years. I know that’s just an excuse, and not a great one. But… Steve, what we did is shitty, but I couldn’t help it. Being with him makes me feel happier than anything, and I didn’t want to put that at risk.”

“Happier than anything that you can _remember_ ,” Steve corrected quietly, brokenly, and Tony let it go because.

Well.

Because there was a _chance –_ a slim, highly unlikely to near impossible chance, but a chance nonetheless – that he was right.

“Yeah, I suppose,” Tony said. “But remember when you showed me that video, of when you proposed? And you asked me if I could imagine loving someone enough that you’d do anything to keep them smiling, because their smile lights up the whole world? Well, I guess I can imagine it now, because that’s how I feel about Loki.”

Steve shuddered, and Tony knew he had to keep going.

“I can’t change the way I feel, and I wouldn’t want to, anyway. I just… I’m sorry,” Tony said, finally feeling a bit of genuine remorse sneaking through everything else– not because he felt sorry for what had happened, but because Steve was so obviously in complete and utter agony. “You’re not going to find your happy ending with me. Because I’m in love with Loki, and I know that’s not going to change.”

“Tony,” Steve said, his voice cracking. “Tony, please—”

“But I’ll give you what you want, Steve,” Tony continued, shaking out of the apology and replacing it with determination. “Because you’re right. I don’t remember loving you, and until I do, there’s always going to be people who doubt. So I’m going to give you what you want, but I want you to know that I’m not doing it for _you_.”

Steve’s eyes sharpened, lighting up with just a little bit of hope that wasn’t quite enough to chase away the darkness. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to go and find Loki,” Tony said firmly, “and I am going to ask him to give me my memories back, if he believes that he’s had enough time. And when he’s done that, you and I are going to finally have a proper talk on even footing.”

And then Tony left Steve in the penthouse without a backward glance, feeling a little guilty for the pain he had inflicted but not capable of fully feeling regret. What he’d said was the truth– he wasn’t doing it for Steve. He was finally following Pepper’s advice and doing something for himself for once.

He needed to find Loki and ask about his memory for their own sakes, because until they could settle this debate, he knew that the horrible stench of doubt would forever remain dragging at their feet.


	9. Trust

The Aesir believe that crying is a sign of weakness. It had always been so, and Loki had learned from a very young age to hide his tears, whether they be caused by injury or a pain that was more difficult to see on the surface. It was a tricky thing to simply wipe his face clean, but to replace an expression with something else is not so difficult. The physical cues of emotions, after all, are fairly easy to fake, and Loki found that he could will away his tears by instead plastering his expression with a smile, a smirk, or a laugh. It gained him a reputation of course, as someone who revelled in the chaotic– which he _did_ , but not when it caused such pain. Not, for example, when he’d far rather deal with the death of a beloved horse by silently mourning rather than partying in a tavern with Thor. But he had grown used to it, and he had learned to keep his tears at bay.

Yet, despite Loki’s practice, there were times when the tears simply refused to shift, when the tether at his throat was tight enough to choke.

The day he had learned of his parentage had been the first time his tears had fallen in decades, and the days following had opened a floodgate. Since then though, he’d once more been able to cast reins over his emotions.

Until, that is, the moment he realised that his time with Anthony was coming to an end.

He appeared in his quarters and managed to make it to the couch before breaking down entirely, his head in his hands and the traitorous tears leaving wet tracks down his nose. He didn’t shake, and he didn’t sob– he merely wept, crying for everything that he almost had within his reach, but had destroyed with his own selfishness.

Loki was surprised when JARVIS quietly informed him that Anthony was on his way, though perhaps he shouldn’t have been. After all, Anthony remained in the dark, continued to hold on to his notions of a perfect world.

_You’re the one I’m meant to love, and don’t you ever forget it._

The words had to be some of the most beautiful that had ever been thrown in Loki’s direction, but in their beauty they were dangerous, _tempting_. Loki knew that if he wanted, he could hold on a little longer. He could convince Anthony that all was well, that he simply needed more time, and Anthony would believe him. Because for some, inexplicable reason, Loki had Anthony’s trust—

And he had abused that trust at every turn.

He knew that he couldn’t stand to deepen the lie. Even if the mortal himself disagreed, Anthony deserved _better_ , and Loki would no longer hide the truth for his own gain.

By the time he heard the elevator doors and Anthony rounded the corner into the living room, Loki was on his feet, decision well and truly made.

“Anthony,” he said, wiping hastily at his eyes and allowing a trickle of seiðr to make him appear more presentable as he did so– though from the concern in Anthony’s gaze, it was clear that the attempt had done nothing to hide his weakness.

“Loki,” Anthony said, and if he had not been frowning when he’d entered the room he certainly was as he reached for Loki’s cheek. Loki leaned into the touch, sure the pain of this moment could not grow any worse if he allowed himself that small comfort. “What is it?” Anthony asked. “What’s wrong? Is it what Steve said? Or was it what _I_ said? Because you know I meant it when I—”

“I know,” Loki interrupted, raising his hand to hold Anthony’s more firmly against his own cheek. “I know that you meant it.”

There was a tiny flash of happiness across Anthony’s face, but it was only there for a moment before the frown returned deeper still.

“Loki—”

“There is something that I should have told you,” Loki started, letting his hand fall and stepping out of Anthony’s reach. It was difficult, moving away, but he knew he was going to need a clear head if he was going to be able to go through with breaking his own heart. “I haven’t been entirely honest, and I… I’ve done a few things that I have come to deeply regret.”

“Loki, you’re worrying me,” Anthony said. “Whatever it is, we’ll work through it—”

“You might not want to,” Loki muttered, not quite able to hold Anthony’s gaze.

“I’ve told you before, there’s very little that you could do which would make me—”

“I have lied from the beginning,” Loki interrupted. “I knew that the others had not told you of your engagement to Rogers, and yet I pretended that I did not so that I could shock you—”

“Oh, I’d worked that out ages ago,” Anthony replied. “Loki, that wasn’t lying. Sure, you might not have had the purest of intentions when you did it, but you were telling me the truth, which was a sure sight more than what anyone else was doing at that point—”

“But after that, you went to Rogers,” Loki said. “And he suggested that you ask me to help you restore your memories.”

“Yes,” Anthony said slowly. “And you agreed, and you’ve been working on it. I don’t see where—”

“I could have given them back to you right then and there,” Loki interrupted, finally looking back up to meet Anthony’s gaze. “It would have been the work of an instant, because I was _already_ in tune with how your mind works– but I told you that it would take time, because I wanted to spend that time with you.”

Because he was watching, perhaps because he knew him so well, Loki was able to pinpoint the exact moment when Anthony understood what Loki was trying to tell him. His expression had shifted from worry to confusion and then to _hurt_ in a matter of moments, every piece of him shattering as he realised what Loki had done.

“You’re saying that you could have fixed me in the beginning,” Anthony said, his voice small and coarse. “That you could have stopped the drama of the past couple months from even happening.”

“Yes,” Loki said, feeling those awful tears begin to prickle at his eyes once again at the thought of never having experienced being with Anthony. Because even though it had been doomed to come to a painful end and it had tasted bittersweet, even though Loki knew that the memories would forever be agony to recall, he still would always hold those stolen days dear.

But, maybe…

Anthony _had_ meant it when he’d said that what he felt was love. That was deep, that didn’t just go away.

And hadn’t Loki promised that he was going to fight? He would no longer lie to Anthony, but he wasn’t going to allow the love of his life to simply _leave_ , either.

“ _No,”_ Loki said suddenly, shaking his head as he changed his answer. “I could have brought those memories back, but there is nothing to _fix_ , and I do not want you to think that I held them back out of any kind of maliciousness.”

“It’s three years, Loki,” Anthony said. “Three years of my life. What right did you have to take that from me?”

“None,” Loki admitted immediately. “It was selfish, I know. And I hated that I was doing that to you, and every time you mentioned not being able to remember something it made me feel sick. I hated that you were suffering when I had the ability to erase what was distressing you.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Anthony demanded. “Why didn’t you let me have them back?”

“Because Rogers is right!” Loki snapped. “You never would have fallen in love with me if you remembered loving him, because you never did before. You were my friend for years, but you never once looked at me the way you looked at him, _because_ you were busy, looking at _him_.”

Breathing heavily, his nails digging into his palms, Loki fought to calm himself with little success.

Anthony was shaking his head. “That’s not the same thing. That doesn’t mean that I’ll go back to him now, and it doesn’t explain why you thought it was okay to—”

“I know that it wasn’t right, I know that, and I promised myself in the beginning that I _would_ give them back eventually, when you realised, when you _asked_. But… I love you,” Loki said desperately. “I love you, I always have. You never knew, and I thought I could live with it, knowing that you were happy. But now that I know what it is to feel you, to hold you, I think that if I went back to watching from the side-lines while you married someone else it would break me beyond any hope of repair.”

For a while, there was nothing but the sound of Loki’s heavy breathing. At first, he didn’t dare glance up from where his gaze had fallen to his twisting hands, afraid of what he might see. But as the moment began to stretch, Loki finally found the courage to raise his chin.

And Anthony… looked lost.

“Loki…” he said, his mouth slightly agape and his eyes wide. He was staring at Loki like he was seeing him for the very first time, and that was when Loki realised.

It was the first time Loki had admitted aloud just _how much_ he cared for Anthony. He knew Anthony must have known already, knew his actions had said as much over the past few weeks. Yet saying the words out loud had released a tension inside him that had been building for _years_ , and before Anthony was able to find his voice to say something more, Loki was opening up and letting go of everything that he had been holding on to since the beginning of the entire mess.

“Seeing you with Rogers broke my heart, and I know I had no right,” he said, not even trying to keep his voice steady. “I know that I have broken your trust. But if there was the slightest chance that I could be with you, I would have taken it. For you to be _happy_ with me, I would do anything that was required. And I know that it was terrible, and selfish, but I am a terrible and selfish person, and I loved you too much to let this chance go.”

Loki stopped there because he had to, because it would hurt to keep going. But Anthony was staring at him with that crease between his brows which meant he was _thinking,_ so—

“I am sorry that I have hurt you, but not sorry that I have done it,” Loki added, not even bothering to hide the way that his voice began to crack into sobs. It wasn’t out of any bid for sympathy– he couldn’t have restrained them even if he had wanted to, and besides, in that moment, he was simply too broken to care enough to try. “These past weeks have been some of the brightest in my life, and they were worth all of the pain that is to come. I know it.”

Anthony watched him for a few moments longer, still thinking, but this time Loki knew that he truly had said everything that he could. Anything else would either be repetition or a simple, flimsy excuse, and neither of them had any need for such a thing.

After a few moments, though, Anthony let out a long breath.

“I _am_ mad at you,” he said. “You’re making it hard for me to be, but I am. What you did was shitty Loki, it _sucks_.”

And Loki was already flinching way, pulling back, curling in on himself—

“But, you’re right,” Anthony sighed. “If you’d done it when Steve asked, then I would have ended up right back where I was before, and I never would have had the chance to see just how great _you_ are. It sucks that I’ve gone months hating the fact that I can’t remember, when you could have fixed it– but it means that I had the chance to be with you, and I think that might have been worth it.” He gave Loki a small smile. “I suppose if you’re terrible and selfish… then I must be, as well.”

“What… are you saying?” Loki asked hesitantly, hardly able to believe that Anthony might not be walking away.

At least… not yet.

“I’m saying that these have been the best few weeks of my life too, and that… well. I’ve never been this happy, and I’m not going to throw it away because you took an opportunity to make me see what I’ve been missing out on. Earlier, I promised that I wasn’t going anywhere. And I _meant_ it.”

Loki felt the horrid urge to interject, to remind him that he still couldn’t make such promises when he didn’t _know_ if he would. But Anthony was not finished.

“Loki, I love you too,” he said. “I do, and– fuck, maybe that just proves how messed up I am, but I _forgive_ you. Just swear you’ll never do something like this again, okay?”

“I won’t,” Loki said instantly, meaning it with all his heart despite the lack of time to think.

“Good,” Anthony said. “Then there’s only one thing left for us to do.”

Despite the sweetness of the moment, the realisation that _Anthony had forgiven him for the lie,_ Loki’s whole body shuddered. He had known, of course he had known that this would come next, but still every nerve and bone and muscle ached at the very thought.

“Hey, it’ll be fine,” Anthony said, placing his hand back on Loki’s cheek– and Loki couldn’t help but sigh, turning into his touch with something like a whine pulling from his throat. “I know you said once that before doesn’t matter, because I don’t remember it.” Anthony smiled softly, his thumb gently stroking over Loki’s cheekbone. “But you _do_ , and Loki, that does matter. If you want us to be able to work this out, then we’re going to have to do it when we _both_ remember being friends.”

“What is it about the past that is so much more important than what we have _now?”_ Loki asked, voice cracking on the last syllable. His cheeks felt damp, but he couldn’t remember feeling a tear break free of his control. “Am I not enough?”

“You’re more than enough,” Anthony replied instantly. “God, you’re… Loki, you’re it for me. To hell with what everyone else is going to think. I love you, and I always will.”

“You can’t know that—”

“I can,” Anthony said fiercely, gripping Loki’s face tightly between both his hands now and refusing to allow Loki to look away. “You hear me? I _can_. Nothing could ever be stronger than what I feel for you right now. But I know you,” Anthony continued, his voice deepening with determined desperation. “And I know myself. I don’t want a Captain America shaped shadow of a ‘what if’ hanging over us for the rest of our lives. So I’m sorry, but you need to help me restore those memories.”

“I don’t think that I can.” It was wrong, Loki knew that– he knew that he shouldn’t, he _couldn’t_ deny Anthony this request. But the thought of losing him was tearing Loki’s heart to shreds, and he wasn’t above a final, frantic attempt. He knew, though, that in the end, all Anthony really needed to do was ask.

“You’re going to have to,” Anthony whispered. “Please, Lokes. Trust me.”

The noise that escaped Loki’s lips could only be described as an agonised whine, and he couldn’t help but lean forward and press their lips together for what just might be the final time. Anthony responded just as eagerly, and it felt like a broken promise– desperate and bittersweet, stained with the taste of salt and the anguish of a hard goodbye.

Loki’s hands caressed Anthony’s cheeks, memorising every curve before sliding through Anthony’s hair one last time and coming to rest against his temples. His fingertips itched as his seiðr began to do its work, and then, smothering a sob against Anthony’s lips, Loki completed the easy and awful task of healing the damaged links in a brilliant mind.

He felt Anthony shudder and then the kiss was broken, hard tremors wracking through the mortal’s entire body. Anthony’s hands fisted in the back of Loki’s shirt as his forehead pressed hard against Loki’s shoulder, hanging on while he was bombarded by memories of three years in the arms of Steve Rogers. But that was just because Loki was _there_ of course, a warm body to grip while his mind was assaulted.

Loki wanted to trust Anthony’s feelings, he really, truly did, but there was a doubt in the back of his mind that grew like a rot, and he had already begun to shut down when Anthony suddenly lifted his head. Yet the awe in his expression gave Loki pause, and there was a touch of _something_ that, just maybe—

“Loki,” Anthony said, and his name was cooling breeze, a breath of freshness on the wings of a prayer. Then Anthony was kissing him again, harder this time, surer, a perfect embrace laced with the _knowledge_ of complete and utter devotion. After just a moment of shock Loki allowed himself to dare to hope, falling into it and clutching Anthony close for as long as it would last– and with every passing second, he began to believe that maybe, just _maybe_ , this wouldn’t be the final kiss at all.

It no longer felt like a goodbye.

And when Anthony pulled away, his eyes were bright and full of that wonder which Loki had long since come to adore.

“Hey, Lokes,” Anthony said, bright and happy and _loving_. “Guess what?”

And even prior to the next words leaving Anthony’s lips, Loki felt like he was flying higher than he ever had before.


	10. Rapture

Having three years of memories shoved back inside your head is _not_ a pleasant experience.

Kissing Loki, though? Well, that’s something Tony could do all day, but he was still pretty pissed that Loki decided to break it by pouring everything into Tony’s mind in one go, right when Tony had been rather enjoying himself.

He couldn’t have at least waited until the end?

Instead of the overwhelming and all-encompassing sensation of _Loki_ Tony was hit with a pain that almost brought him to his knees. It wasn’t physical, not an ache or a strain– it was more of a kaleidoscope of colour, a confusion of events, an upheaval of emotion and images and thoughts and words and people and places and Tony experienced all of it in a single moment, shoved into his head much too fast. His mind was stuffed full and on the brink of exploding, yet everything was slotting exactly back into place. It was uncomfortable and relaxing and horrific all at once, and Loki held Tony throughout it all, pressing their bodies together while Tony shuddered and gasped.

He _remembered_ – he remembered how he and Steve had started out as nothing more than fuck buddies, teammates (but not quite friends) with benefits, dealing with the arguments and arrogance and pent up frustration by taking it out in the least violent way they knew how. But then… Tony couldn’t say when it had happened, but Steve’s touches had started to lose their bite, turning softer and more caring somehow without ever losing their possessive edge. And before Tony had the chance to catch his breath the hate sex had turned into just sex, and then the lingering looks of desire became something that meant a little bit more. Steve had been the first to ask whether Tony felt ‘the same way’, and Tony had been so desperate to feel _something_ that he’d immediately agreed.

In time he’d come to love Steve, he really had—

But now, he could look at those memories with a different lens over his eyes. Steve’s loving embraces when he interrupted a science-fest with Loki turned into possessive holds; his over-the-top concern for Tony’s safety in the workshop and during fights became a little stifling; and his frequent dismissal of Loki, thrown into sharp focus by recent confrontations, scratched at Tony’s every nerve far more than it ever had before.

Yes, he’d loved Steve, but it hadn’t been the perfect romance he’d tried so hard to manufacture.

And when he looked up and his eyes caught Loki’s, his feelings for Steve felt dull and grey.

He’d been sure of his choice before– but now, there was hardly even a question, and when he pressed his lips to Loki’s it was like the entire world levelled out to be exactly the way it should be.

The following smile and the teasing came so easy, because being with Loki _was_ easy, it was simple and perfect and _freeing_ and everything Tony had always wanted. And with Loki’s eyes alight with complete and utter bliss, there was only one more thing that Tony felt the need to say.

“I love you,” Tony said, the words meaning so much more than they ever had now that they could no longer be contested.

But, still—

“Tell me again,” Loki asked, and surely, after all they had been through, that was one thing Tony knew he would never refuse to do.

Not that he’d ever want to, anyway.

“I love you,” he repeated, pressing another quick kiss to Loki’s lips before pulling back and saying yet again that, “God, Loki, _I love you—”_

He was cut off as Loki surged back toward him, sliding their mouths back together with a desperation that spoke of far too much pain. Tony tried to chase that away with strokes of his tongue and pulls with his teeth, biting down just hard enough to have Loki gasping and drawing him closer still.

“I love you too, Anthony,” Loki rasped, interspersing the words between brushes of lips. “More than anything.”

Tony knew that he’d said the words a hundred times, but to hear Loki say them back, saying them for no reason other than the fact that they were _true_ warmed him to the core. It was different than hearing them in the middle of an apology, it was purer, more real.

He realised now that Loki had been holding back out of guilt—

But there was nothing now to be guilty for. They were together, there was nothing between them, nothing left to hold them back. They could finally be properly happy.

Happy, and in love.

Tony let one hand slide under Loki’s shirt, feeling smooth skin and hard muscle. His other caressed Loki’s cheek, raked through Loki’s hair, and Loki gasped into his mouth as he gave it a light tug.

“Is this okay?” Tony asked, an echo of their first kiss, unspoken proof that this time, he hadn’t forgotten a thing.

“Anthony,” Loki groaned, his voice extending the syllables and hitching so perfectly at the end that Tony felt a groan of his own pull from his throat. “This is _perfect_.”

They didn’t make it to Loki’s bedroom, but fell onto the couch in a mess of limbs and laughter. Tony’s hands fumbled at Loki’s clothes as he tried to remove them without breaking their kiss, but it only took a single curse before everything vanished with a shimmer of green. As their bare skin pressed together Tony felt his breath hitch, electric jolts sparking pleasure everywhere they touched. He arched into the feeling and raked his hands over every part of Loki he could reach, fingers dragging across skin hard enough to leave trails of bruises, had Loki been human. But Loki _wasn’t_ , and he was able to roll them over and press Tony hard into the cushions, and Tony groaned again at the feeling of Loki’s weight resting over the length of his body.

With anyone else, it might have felt like he was being restrained– but Loki just made him feel loved.

They were flying high on the ecstasy of forgiveness and relief, burning with the need not only to reassure themselves that everything had gone so perfectly well, but the simple desire to be _together_.

“You’re choosing me,” Loki said, staring down at Tony with such adoration that it made Tony’s chest ache. “Over everyone else that you could have, you want _me_.”

“Loki,” Tony breathed reverently. “I’m never letting go of you again.”

Loki’s eyes widened, and the corner of Tony’s lips tugged up into a soft smile.

“I’m sorry for everything I put you through, every time I made you feel like I didn’t want you. I promise that you’ll never feel that way ever again, because _you_ are all that I can see, now.”

The noise Loki made was half way between a sob and a keen, and Tony dragged him down for a bruising kiss.

“I want _you_ ,” he continued, his lips dragging over Loki’s cheeks and down to his neck, his teeth grazing skin as he spoke. “I _love_ you, and I desire you in every way you’ll let me have you.”

“ _Every_ way,” Loki echoed, his breath shaking. “Anthony—”

“Shh,” Tony said, turning his head to bring their lips back together in a sweet caress. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

Loki shivered and melted into Tony’s touch, quivering as Tony ran a hand down Loki’s side. Tony pressed up into their kiss as he allowed his fingers to brush against Loki’s cock, swallowing Loki’s gasp as he caressed the soft skin. Taking that reaction as confirmation, he took Loki’s cock in his hand, curling his fingers and moving with a single, slow stroke.

“Hey, Lokes,” he said, “I could use some of that magic lube again.”

Loki merely groaned, his face pressed into the curve of Tony’s neck, but then Tony’s fingers were slick and his movements steadied into a rhythm that had Loki gasping and pressing harder into Tony to stay upright. Just one stroke that was a little faster than the others, a thumb curling over and under and brushing that sensitive spot _just so–_ and then Loki bucked into Tony’s hand, brushing Loki’s arousal against Tony’s equally hard cock and _—_

“ _Oh_ ,” Tony gasped. “ _Loki—_ ”

“Anthony,” Loki replied, breathlessly, softly, aching with devotion and need. And then Loki’s hand was joining Tony’s, the two of them moving together in a perfect synchronicity that had them both biting down moans.

Yet the physical closeness wasn’t all that had Tony’s heart racing, his fingers trembling as they danced over Loki’s skin. For all that they had slept in the same bed for weeks, they had yet to go all the way. Tony had thought that Loki just wanted to take it slow, but now he knew that Loki had likely been holding back for another reason.

Even now that there _was_ nothing to stop them, it didn’t feel like something that was needed. After all, they had all the time in the world, and for now, Tony found that he would rather focus on keeping his promise and making sure that Loki knew he was loved.

So he kept his strokes smooth, his kisses sweet, and he told Loki as much with his touch as he did with his words. Loki responded in kind, detailing every piece of Tony he desired with his hands and lips and tongue and it wasn’t long before Tony was shattering, his muscles contracting and convulsing as he rode the simple pleasure of being with someone he loved and who loved him back. Loki held him through it, watching him fall apart adoringly.

“Mine,” Loki whispered, and yet somehow it didn’t carry an ounce of possession, the word a simple fact that Tony knew he would never wish to dispute.

“Yours, Loki,” he moaned, taking Loki’s cock in hand again and catching his lips in a bruising kiss. “Now and always.”

That was all that was needed to push Loki over the edge, and he came with a shudder and a moan, pressing against Tony until he was utterly spent. He slumped against Tony’s chest and they curled together, too sated and exhausted and so utterly, utterly _content_ to even consider moving.

And despite the uncomfortable, too-small couch, the cool air that chilled Tony’s damp skin, and the aches that began to make themselves known, it was somehow one of the most perfect moments of Tony’s life– and he could say that now, without any doubt at all.

Tony hadn’t even known he’d been looking, but either way, he knew he’d found everything he’d ever need. 

—•—

Tony wasn’t sure how long they lay there. He might have dozed off, curled against Loki’s chest, feeling the rise and fall of his soft breaths and relishing the gentle touch of Loki’s fingers stroking his hair. It lulled him into a state of relaxation that he’d always found difficult to reach, and he basked in the knowledge that finally, this was _it_ , nothing would come between them again.

Of course, they still had plenty of issues to deal with, such as the fact that even though everything had turned out well Loki _had_ held back Tony’s memories. Tony had forgiven him, of course, perhaps a little too easily, since it was three years of his life that Loki had kept from him without his permission. But Tony stood by what he had said, because if Loki hadn’t done what he had, then Tony would never have realised what had been sitting in front of him all along.

Now that he had those three years, he could remember thinking that Loki was gorgeous, and that his intelligence and his mind was just as seductive. He remembered the flirting, knowing that it was wrong to do so when he felt more than he _should_ , feeling a little like he was betraying Steve but not being able to stop himself regardless.

The attraction to Loki had always been there, but he’d kept every promise and had refused to stray from Steve.

God, what an idiot he’d been.

He shifted slightly, turning his head to press a light kiss to Loki’s shoulder, smiling against his skin and knowing that this time, at least, he’d finally made the right choice.

Loki hummed at the touch, and his arms shifted to hold Tony more firmly, wrapping around his shoulders and waist as Loki dotted a kiss to the top of his head. It was _nice,_ to just be held. Not stifling, not confining, not like Tony had always felt it to be in the past– it just felt like Loki was treating him like something to be cherished, and Tony leaned into it contentedly.

It was a quiet moment, peaceful, and Tony was loath to break it. But unfortunately, the rest of the world would be knocking at their door if they stayed much longer, and Tony knew that things would only grow more difficult the longer they waited.

So he turned his head to look at Loki properly, taking the opportunity to brush his lips gently across Loki’s jaw as he moved.

Loki met his gaze, and sighed. “What is it?” he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly, and Tony was once again warmed by just how well Loki seemed to know him.

“I’m going to need to speak with Steve,” Tony said, and Loki groaned.

“So soon?” he complained, the tips of his fingers pressing into Tony’s skin where his hand rested on his shoulder.

“I promised that I would as soon as I had my memories back.” Tony lifted Loki’s hand in his and pressed a light kiss to his palm. “I’ve already made him wait longer than I should have.”

“Then he likely already knows what has occurred,” Loki said. He twisted his wrist to cup Tony’s cheek, and Tony leaned into the touch contentedly, barely containing a purr. “Stay with me?”

“Always,” Tony said, his eyes falling closed.

Cool lips pressed to Tony’s in a soft kiss, and he could feel Loki’s smile. He really _didn’t_ want to leave, but he knew that he should– staying here would only delay the inevitable, and the sooner he spoke with Steve, the sooner he could remove the shadow and just delight in the simple act of being in love with Loki.

“I do still need to talk to Steve, though,” he whispered against Loki’s skin, and the god pulled away with a hiss.

“ _Steve_ ,” he muttered. “Must you speak of him when we are still—”

“Sorry,” Tony winced. Yeah, that probably had been a bit tactless, considering.

Actually, that was probably something that they would need to talk about– because for all that Tony had promised Loki he had chosen him _now_ , Loki deserved to know why he hadn’t been first choice in the past when really, he should always have been. Besides, Tony would rather be sure that Loki was confident in their relationship before speaking to Steve, anyway.

So—

“Hey Lokes?” Tony asked. “Do you want to hear about why Steve was terrible for me, and why I stayed with him anyway?”

Loki narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“I promise, it’ll be a good talk,” Tony said.

There was yet another pause, during which Tony was sure Loki would refuse. But, instead—

“Very well,” Loki sighed. “But if we are going to speak of him, just allow me to…”

He did not finish the sentence, but he didn’t need to– in a sudden shimmer of green, Tony was wearing the same clothes as before, his skin feeling clean and refreshed.

“Yeah, okay,” Tony said. “That’s fair.”

They rearranged themselves so that they were sitting side by side, still leaning together with their hands entwined, but not quite as intimate as before. That was all right though, since it certainly made it easier to think.

“At the beginning, there really wasn’t anything between Steve and I,” Tony started, playing with Loki’s fingers rather than looking at his face. “We hated each other, and after he slammed me against the wall one time it just… well, it took a direction that wasn’t quite as violent as a fight. From there things just got a bit heated, and by the time he told me that he actually liked me, I’d grown too used to having one person to be close to, and I didn’t want to throw that away.”

Tony glanced up when he received no response, and saw that Loki was watching him tightly, his lips pressing together in a way that suggested concern rather than upset.

So, Tony kept going.

“I felt trapped, sometimes, or maybe more often than not. I knew what he’d done to me, that he’d lied and betrayed and that I couldn’t trust him. But I never wanted to talk about any of it, because if I did, I knew that I might start to see all the reasons why I shouldn’t be with Steve. In the beginning, Rhodey and Pepper warned me, but I told them it was just sex, so it didn’t matter. And then, when I started to enjoy it, I didn’t want to hear it because I was afraid that I would start to believe them. The one time I try not to self-sabotage myself, and I was making a mistake all along.” Tony let out a bitter laugh. But then he looked up to Loki. “And then there was you,” Tony continued, his voice going soft. “I never told you about everything that happened, about the Accords, or about Siberia. I never told you, because I knew that out of everyone, you had the best chance of convincing me to leave. And I thought that wasn’t something I wanted– but I was _wrong_.”

Loki closed his eyes, and Tony ached with the knowledge that he had hurt Loki so much in the past. It would take more than a few kisses and a few words to smooth away the rest of that doubt– it would take _time_.

Thankfully, time was something they would have in spades.

But, for now—

“The way that I feel about you outshines any of that a thousand times over,” Tony said. “It wasn’t always that way, but– it is now, and I’m grateful that you gave me another chance.”

“I would have given you a thousand chances,” Loki said, his fingers curling around Tony’s tightly. “A thousand, and a thousand more, waiting in the wings until Rogers made a mistake that you could not forgive. But I’m grateful too, that you’ve chosen me.”

It was clear that Loki was still having trouble believing that, that deep down, he still half expected Tony to turn around and leave. So Tony pressed up in his seat and touched his lips to Loki’s, before looking him in the eyes and speaking with as much honesty as he could.

“Loki, I promise, I’m not going to change my mind. I won’t go back to Steve– how can I, when I’m in love with you?”

“I know that,” Loki said, and despite his slight confusion Tony smiled softly when he saw that Loki meant it. “I know that you are, and that’s not what I’m worried about. I just…” He closed his eyes, and exhaled with a soft shudder.

 _Oh_.

It wasn’t Loki’s mind that was the problem, he really did believe Tony. But after so long, Loki couldn’t shake away the tiny remaining sliver of irrational fear.

“Hey, it’s all right,” Tony said, pulling Loki in close. “It’s okay.”

Loki’s arms wrapped back around Tony’s shoulders, and he buried his face into Tony’s neck. Tony could feel him trembling, and he gently stroked Loki’s hair, humming quietly in an effort to calm him down.

“Sorry,” Loki said after a moment, his voice a little choked. “I do not mean to seem so _pathetic—_ ”

“No, don’t you dare,” Tony said, the words sharp but his tone soft. “You’re not pathetic, you’ve just been through a hell of a lot. And listen– this isn’t going to be easy. We’re going to have to deal with the fallout, from everyone else and the rest of the world, but I don’t care, okay? We’re going to stick together through all of it, because none of _them_ matter.” Tony smiled, recognising Pepper echoing through his words. She would no doubt be pleased, knowing that she had finally managed to get through to him. “The only ones who matter are us, okay? Me and you. Everyone else can suck it, and the sooner we deal with them, the sooner we can get back to just doing our thing.”

“Me and you,” Loki said, lifting his head to meet Tony’s gaze. “I quite like that.”

Tony smiled. “So do I.”

And that was all, for a moment– they simply smiled at each other. Happy.

“All right, come on,” Tony sighed. “The sooner I talk to Steve, the sooner we can put this all behind us.”

“It will be nice to be able to hold you where the others can see,” Loki said. “I have wanted that for rather a long time.”

“Lokes, you can kiss me in full view of the whole world if you want, and I couldn’t be happier,” Tony told him. Then he pulled a face. “Just maybe not Thor. I don’t really have any desire to see Mjölnir up close.”

Loki snorted. “I do not desire that, either. I rather like your face the way it is.” He smiled again, and touched his lips to Tony’s cheek in feather light kiss. He barely moved away as he whispered, “If speaking to Rogers is what you must do so that we may be like this for as long as we please, then we must go immediately.”

“Then let’s get this show on the road,” Tony said with a grin. He gave Loki one more peck on the tip of his nose before shifting away and climbing to his feet, pulling Loki up behind him. “J?” he asked. “Where’s Steve?”

“Captain Rogers is on the common floor, Sir,” said JARVIS. “He is accompanied by several others.”

Tony turned to Loki with a nervous grin. “Come with me?”

Loki’s answering smile was small, but bright. “ _Always_.”

—•—

Despite his determination to get things done, Tony still found it difficult to pull away, and he knew that Loki felt the same. Their hands remained entwined as they walked to the bathroom, and they stood close as they ensured that Loki’s earlier magic had made them look presentable. Then, while they stood inside the elevator and waited for it to take them to the common floor, Loki pulled Tony against him for one more kiss, chaste this time but still just as enjoyable as any of the others.

They had to part, though, when doors slid open, not wanting to cause insult before Tony had the chance to properly explain. And Loki let Tony go, though the tense line of his shoulders suggested that it had pained him to do so.

Tony felt a surge of warmth at that, recognising that it must be difficult, after spending so long being in love with someone from afar, to let them go so soon after confirming their relationship.

“Trust me,” he said, offering Loki a soft smile in reassurance.

“I do,” Loki replied. He leaned forward only slightly, and Tony knew that Loki wanted to kiss him again. If he had, Tony didn’t think he would have stopped him, but he was glad when Loki merely gave a soft smile before turning and nodding toward the main room, waiting for Tony to go ahead.

The room was full, with most of the Avengers sitting on couches and armchairs. Steve was stood by the windows, his arms crossed, while Sam hovered at his shoulder with a posture that bled concern. They all had already looked up at the sound of the elevator, and Tony could see immediately that every one of them knew. Steve’s shoulders were hunched and his expression pained, while the others all looked on with sympathy.

“Steve,” Tony said as he drew closer, speaking softly. He didn’t regret his choice, and he knew that he never would– but he still felt some remorse for the pain he was causing. “I promised you that we would talk.”

“You’ve got your memories back, then?” Steve asked, his tone defeated. “I had thought… I was _sure_ …”

“I know,” Tony sighed. “But Steve, I did tell you that how I felt was not going to change. I knew it.”

“Does this mean that you have chosen Loki, then?” asked Thor, jumping from his seat on the couch and barging into the conversation.

“Thor,” Natasha hissed, though even her glare was not quite so deadly as the one Sam was sending Thor’s way. “Don’t—”

“I am terribly sorry, my friend,” Thor said, patting Steve on the shoulder, his tone sorrowful and full of sympathy. But the bright grin and thumbs up that he shot Loki between the two halves of the sentence ruined the sentiment a little bit.

“Thor,” Natasha hissed again, getting to her feet and moving to join them. When he glanced at her questioningly, she looked pointedly to Steve.

Steve’s fists were clenched at his sides, and for half a second, Tony wondered if Steve was angry. But then he saw the tremor in his hands, the press of his lips, the slight squint to his eyes, and Tony realised that Steve was about one more word away from a breakdown.

“Perhaps you should speak privately?” Sam suggested, turning his piercing gaze on Tony.

“Yeah, good idea,” Tony agreed. “Steve?”

Steve gave a single, sharp jerk of his head, and then moved toward the elevator without waiting for any further discussion.

“Really, Thor?” Tony asked in disbelief.

“I do not mean to cause more pain,” Thor said earnestly. “He is my shield brother and my friend, and I am sorry that he has lost his heart.” Thor’s gaze slid past Tony to land on his brother, and this time, his smile was smaller, but it was full of joy. “Although… generally, at least as far as I have seen, people tend to find their hearts in the place where they least expected it.”

Tony sighed, and turned his gaze to the ceiling. It seemed that no one had been oblivious to the way Loki had felt about him all his time.

“Thank you, brother,” Loki said, stepping close beside Tony now that Steve had gone, allowing their arms to brush lightly against each other. Tony glanced over and caught his gaze.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised.

And when Loki smiled, he did not seem concerned in the slightest. “I know.”

Tony heard Bruce say that he would start making some cocoa, and the sound of the others’ agreement followed him as he walked back to the elevator. He found Steve leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, his hands still in fists. The ride was silent and awkward, and Tony was glad that JARVIS chose to take them to Steve’s floor. It would be best if they were somewhere that Steve could feel comfortable.

They stood in Steve’s living room, about three yards apart. Steve was staring at Tony almost blankly, waiting, his trembling fists the only indication of his thoughts. And Tony… found that he didn’t know what to say.

Earlier, when he had been talking to Loki, it had been so easy. He had been able to think the words and let them out, speaking without fear, because he knew he was speaking the truth and he knew that Loki would accept what he had to say. But now, standing in front of the person he had wronged, someone who he had caused so much pain and was only about to break once again– he _didn’t know what to say._

But he knew that he had to say _something_.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted. “Steve, I’m—”

“No, you’re not.” Steve’s interruption was soft, with none of the bitterness that Tony was expecting. “You’re happy.”

And Tony… gaped.

“What?” he asked. “I mean, yeah, I’m– what?”

Steve sighed, finally uncurling his fingers and spreading them out, pressing his hands into the sides of his thighs as if in an attempt to hold them steady. “You’re happy, Tony,” Steve repeated. “And… as much as it pains me, that’s all that I’ve ever wanted. So please, don’t apologise when I know you don’t mean it.”

Tony had prepared for yelling, and shouting. He’d been expecting Steve to be angry, to punch him in the head or something, because that was probably what Tony deserved.

But Steve was being _nice_ , and somehow, that just made Tony feel worse– because the most awful part about it was that Tony honestly _was_ sorry, and without Steve’s anger to justify a lack of remorse, Tony felt more than a little lost.

Despite the way that Steve had acted, Tony knew that Steve really did love him. He’d made a few mistakes, and he hadn’t understood Tony as well as he should have, but he really had _tried,_ and Tony appreciated everything Steve had done. Because yes, their relationship hadn’t been perfect, far from it. But at the time, it had been enough.

Steve had been something to hold on to, a lifeboat in the middle of a blowing storm. He had kept Tony on his feet and held his head above water, helped him work through that difficult time after the Accords in a way that yes, probably hadn’t been entirely healthy, but had been enough to get him through to the other side. Without his relationship with Steve, Tony knew he would have struggled, and he would forever be grateful for that.

So yes, Steve had been a steadying anchor. But Loki…

Loki didn’t offer something to hold on to, because he never stayed in place. He couldn’t be an anchor when he had been cast astray himself, but that was okay, because, well– Tony didn’t need another thing to weigh him down. Loki was the opposite of everything Steve stood for, dancing electric across the end of Tony’s every nerve where Steve had been a mere warm glow– comfortable and safe, but not _exciting_. Loki offered Tony protection not through a shield, but rather a sharp blade, a fast getaway, and a series of tricks that could only ever be deciphered by the two of them, because they understood each other so perfectly in a way that no one else ever could.

No, Loki wasn’t safe, but he was wild and inspiring and addictive, and he was the bright spark amongst all the madness of the world that allowed Tony to find his feet– and not to stand still, but to keep on running.

If Steve had been his lifeboat, then Loki was his North Star. It was fucking pathetic, really, but it didn’t make it any less true– nor any less perfect.

Seeing Steve’s broken expression still hurt, and that hurt probably wouldn’t ever truly heal, but Tony could not have turned away from Loki for the world.

Tony had made his choice and, yet… there Steve was, somehow managing to be the better man.

He couldn’t feel regret for what he had done, but it still left the bitter taste of guilt upon his tongue.

Tony swallowed hard. “You’re a good man, Steve,” he said.

“No,” Steve said again. “I’m not.”

“But, you don’t even seem angry—”

“Oh, I _am_ angry,” Steve cut in, and finally his eyes began to blaze just as Tony had expected them to from the beginning. “I’m angry that I didn’t see this coming, that I still held on to hope even when you and everyone else was telling me that it would be impossible. I’m angry that Loki had the audacity to step in, I’m angry that you kept it from me, and—” he grit his teeth, clenching them tightly enough that Tony could see the muscles in his neck flex. “And I’m angry that I made you think that I _would_ be angry with you,” he finished. And then, almost as quickly as it had appeared, the anger dissipated. Steve’s shoulders slumped, his hands fell loose to his sides, and he let out a heavy sigh. “I still love you, Tony,” he said. “I think maybe I always will. And _I’m_ sorry, that I’ve pushed you away.”

It didn’t feel odd anymore, to hear Steve say that he loved him. Tony was used to it, had heard it a hundred times or more over the past few years, and he knew how much Steve actually _meant_ it.

No, it wasn’t odd. It just made Tony feel strangely detached, because Steve loved him and Tony… didn’t love him back. And he wanted to say that Steve hadn’t pushed him away, that really, they hadn’t matched in the first place– that it had been more a case of Loki drawing him closer instead. But he knew that none of that was what Steve wanted to hear, so instead, he decided to say something hopeful.

After all, he had proof of his own that Steve could recover. What they’d felt for each other was more powerful than anything Tony had felt in his life prior, but it was still nothing more than a ripple on a pond compared to the tidal surge of emotion Tony felt from just the brush of Loki’s fingers against his own.

“You won’t,” he promised, his words ringing with honesty. “You’ll find someone else, someone who suits you a whole lot better than I ever could. You’ll be happy, you’ll see.”

“Maybe,” Steve said, though he rather looked like he didn’t believe it. “But Tony, he had better treat you right. If he ever steps out of line—”

“He won’t,” Tony said, feeling more sure of that than almost anything else. _Almost_. “But thank you, anyway, I guess.”

“Good,” Steve said, firmly at first, before looking away from Tony once more. His hands were fists again, and all of a sudden Tony felt even more out of place than he had before.

There wasn’t really anything left to say, but Tony didn’t feel right simply leaving. Steve was barely holding it together, and Tony didn’t think that he should leave Steve alone– but he didn’t think that his being there could possibly help either, because he was the one who had hurt Steve in the first place, and surely that would only make it worse?

“I’ll, um…” Tony glanced to the elevator, and when he looked back he saw that Steve was watching him with watery eyes and broken smile.

“Go,” Steve said. “Go back to him. I’ll be up in a moment, I just need…” He trailed off, like he’d lost the tail end of the sentence amongst the mess of whatever was going through his head.

Tony was still caught in a muddle of indecision when the sound of the elevator doors and then determined footsteps cut through the awkward silence, and they both turned to see Sam striding toward them. He paused as he reached Tony, and his lips quirked in sympathy and understanding.

“It’s all right,” Sam said, raising a hand and patting Tony firmly on the shoulder. “Go. I’ll look after him.”

Now that there was someone there to make sure Steve didn’t… well, that he would be all right, Tony scurried out of there probably a little too fast. When he turned as he reached the elevator, he had a perfect view of the pair in the living room, standing in a solid embrace. Steve’s head was already on Sam’s shoulder, and Sam was holding him tight, offering words of comfort.

Tony nodded to himself, and gestured for JARVIS to close the doors.

Steve would be all right.

There must have been something odd going on with Tony’s expression, because the moment he stepped out of the elevator Loki was at his side, one hand on Tony’s shoulder while the other gently caressed Tony’s cheek.

“Anthony?” Loki asked. “Are you well?”

“Yeah, Lokes,” Tony said, leaning into his touch, his eyes falling closed in contentment. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

And… he _was_. Better than fine in fact, because while the conversation with Steve had been hard, everything that needed to be said had been dealt with. He wouldn’t ever forget, they could put the entire mess behind them and move on. All that was left now was to begin the next chapter.

His lips pulled up into a blinding smile and he leaned in to give Loki his promised kiss, his arms wrapping around Loki’s shoulders as he became lost in pure bliss. In the background, Tony was dimly aware of Thor letting out a _whoop_ and Rhodey teasingly muttering something about PDA, but he really didn’t care. He was holding the love of his life in his arms, and he was never going to let go.

It may not have been an easy road, but Tony knew, at least, that he and Loki had both found their happy ending.

Or, well.

A happy _beginning_ , perhaps, for while all things must eventually come to an end, their story had only just begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost can't believe that I have reached the end of this already, it doesn't feel that long ago that I was overly caffeinated in an airport at far too early in the morning and helping to come up with the plot for this to try and stay awake. 
> 
> Thank you so much everyone for sticking with me on this one, and especially to those of you who were so amazing helping me write it. ❤︎


End file.
